


12 steps

by immortaltomo



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Depression, Drug Use, I dont know how to tag, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rehab, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, basically just Connor's recovery story, like a lot of swearing, super slow burn, this is a mess, to add more as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 64,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortaltomo/pseuds/immortaltomo
Summary: Connor is in denial about his addiction, but when he gets "caught" at school and is forced into rehab he has to accept it.In which Connor just needs a lotta help and supportive people around him to get sober.[currently on hiatus]





	1. Intro

Connor didn't need help and he most certainly didn't have a problem. He would just sometimes find himself in situations that others would think is unhealthy or troublesome. 

Like today. 

He had woken up passed out in the grass, rubbish and plastic cups littered the lawn from the most recent party. So what? He had a little too much to drink the night before it wasn't a crime to have fun. Underage drinking maybe, but it wasn't like he had many morals to live by. 

He groaned as he pushed himself off the ground. The sun was so bright it was damn near insulting. 

The problem with drinking till you blackout was that you couldn't remember anything. Also the migraine the next morning, but more so the part of temporary memory loss. 

Connor couldn't remember whose house he was at or where he even was. He stumbled as he stood, legs feeling like noodles, as he began his excruciatingly long journey home.

By some miracle he made it home without ending up in some ditch or completely collapsing on the sidewalk. His legs didn't give up on him even though the throbbing of his head was begging him to stop moving. He knew his parents-- well his mother-- would be incredibly pissed off that he had spent all night out, but what else is new. He snuck through his bedroom window, something he was practically a professional at by now, and flopped on his bed. He just needed sleep. 

He had just closed his eyes when he heard his name being called.

“Connor!” His sister Zoe yelled banging on his door. “Let's go we are going to be late!”

He groaned into his pillow. His head was killing him and all he wanted to do was sleep for the next ten years. He didn't want to deal with school at all today.. or ever for that matter. Everyone there was a bunch of assholes who he'd rather not waste his time being around. Except Evan. 

Evan was his only friend. By some freak chance him and Evan just started talking and became friends. He hasn't known Evan for long- just since the beginning of the school year when Connor had asked him how he broke his arm and ended up signing his cast. Sometimes he still wonders how someone as nice and innocent as Evan Hansen ends up being friends with a complete and utter fuck up like him. 

He didn't bother to move until Zoe was once again banging on his door, “Alright! I fucking get it!” He yelled back in response. 

He peeled himself off his bed, looking down at the clothes he currently had on. They were the ones he had wore yesterday and reeked of alcohol and weed. He didn't really care what students at his school thought about him- they already thought he was going to show up one day with a gun- but his ass would be grass if his parents caught the scent. Not that they weren't always on his shit anyways he just wanted to avoid another pointless argument. He searched through the pile of clothes he had on the floor, grabbing whatever was the cleanest, and changed. He flung open his bedroom door and stormed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He heard Zoe scoff something as he passed but he didn't care that much to ask about it. He brushed his teeth and disregarded his hair. It was a mess and he didn't have the energy nor cared enough to do anything with it. 

The car ride was extremely painful. Zoe kept asking a hundred questions about his whereabouts last night and what he was doing. He didn't give much of them any attention which only pissed his sister off more. He didn't care. 

Once they were at school he quickly got out of the car, not bothering to bid his sister goodbye, and walked into the hellscape. 

Being known as a potential school shooter came with some perks. That being everyone quickly got the fuck out of his way as he walked down the hall. He just needed to get through first period. His parents should have left to go to work by the time it ended and he could go home and sleep without confrontation. 

“Hey Connor!” he heard someone call out. Jared fucking Kleinman. Of course. “Love the hair length. Very school-shooter-chic!”

He had been getting hell from Kleinman since freshman year, and normally he would just ignore his comments and insults, but today he was irritated and hungover and wanted to punch Jared so hard in the face his stupid fucking glasses broke. Connor just glared at him despite his harsh thoughts.

“Chill. It's just a joke Connie!” He threw his hands up defensively.

“Oh no it's funny,” Connor replied. And then he took a step closer. “Why am I not laughing hard enough for you?” He asked balling his fist at his side. 

“God,” Jared sighed. “You're such a freak.” With that he left. His shoulder slammed hard against Connor’s as he passed throwing him a bit off. He stumbled slightly then recovered and headed to class despite the urge to chase Jared down and yell and punch him. _Just get through first period_ , he kept telling himself. 

He just about reached his class when once again he heard his name being called. _Jesus fucking Christ_ can't people just see he doesn't want to be fucking bothered! He turned around to see his only friend walking towards him. 

“A-are you o-okay? Y-you didn't an-answer your phone last ni-night and I-I was really worried about y-you,” He asked. 

Evan Hansen had been a saving grace or sorts when he entered Connors life. Connor was a fucking mess before Evan came along.He would either be high or drunk or both. He would be angry, irritated, and paranoid almost all of the time. Mentally he was in a dark place and he used drugs and other substances to feel somewhat normal, but it only made just about everything worse. He would fight every single day with his parents, he let his grade slip so far that he wasn't even sure if he could graduate from this place, and his motivation to do anything but numb his emotions was shot. He would just lay in bed all day allowing his torturous thoughts to roam free. 

Some days are still like that. Where Connor gets high and stares blankly at the ceiling or gets so drunk that he blackouts. But then there are other days. They happen less frequently than Connor would like but maybe that's what makes them special or some shit. Most of them… actually all of them have to do with being around Evan. They would hang out, he would smile and laugh and for once wouldn't think about how much he wanted to end his miserable life.

Connor would have liked to say that Evan was what grounded him, and most of the time he did, but then there were others where he felt like absolute crap and resorted back to his original habits. He wished that Evans presence in his life magically fixed him, but that's not how mental illnesses work. Someone can't just pop up into your life and _poof_ you're not depressed or anxious anymore, but there are people who come into your life and make it more manageable, and that's what Evan was to Connor. 

Evan made Connor want to be a better person, but he keeps fucking that up like he does everything else.. 

“Lost my phone,” He replied plainly. It wasn't a lie he didn't know where it was not did he care enough to start looking for it. He didn't intend to be so cold towards Evan, but his current hangover was making him a lot more bitter than usual. 

“O-Oh,” Evan mumbled playing with the hem of his shirt. 

He felt like complete shit for making his friend worry about him. He still wasn't use to the idea that someone actually gave a crap whether he woke up in the morning or not. This friendship thing was new to both of them, and Connor was still trying to understand how everything worked. He tried to somewhat ease Evan’s worrying mind.

“I'll try to look for it when I get home, okay?” 

“Y-yeah! Te-text me if-if you do,” Evan smiled. “I-I have to g-get to class b-but I'll see you later r-right?” 

“Yeah, see ya later Hansen,” He said before they both headed to class in opposite directions. 

First period was boring but it allowed Connor to get a very uncomfortable nap in. He had always liked English but not when it was at 7 o’clock in the morning. He wasn't sure he liked anything at that time beside sleep. He entered the class and walked to his seat in the far back. He let his head rest against his arms which were folded on top of the desk as the teacher babbled on about the current book they were reading: _Just Mercy._

Connor liked to read and the story itself was pretty interesting. It was about this lawyer who was trying to get this guy who was wrongly convicted out of prison. For some reason Connor felt like he could relate Walter, the guy who was wrongly convicted. Maybe it was because Connor felt like no one listened to him much like Walter who pleaded for his innocence. Or maybe it was because Walter was just thrown in jail because it was easier than to actually help him.

See Connor was actually pretty decent at school.. when he tried. His grades in English were always significantly higher than his others because he enjoyed reading and for the most part stuck to his work. But it didn't matter what his grades were or whatever. He was a fuck up. A druggie with anger issues who always seemed to disappoint everyone around him. 

He sighed as he closed his eyes. His head was still killing him despite taking aspirin before coming to school. Everything was just too loud and too bright. He needed to sleep.

He wished the next events were just a dream because they ended up changing everything and completely flipping his life upside down.


	2. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to rehab..

Connor was sitting in the principal's office. Cynthia, who he refused to call mom, was to his left and Mrs. Harris was across from both of them perked behind her desk. Connor had been in here more times than he can remember, each time less and less pleasant. Connors track record at school was long and he still wondered how most of the time he got off with a measly four hour detention. Maybe she felt bad for him or something and never made the “punishments” severe enough, but that's just what Connor wanted to believe. 

This time things were different that being astonishingly clear by Cynthia sitting next to him. Every time he got in trouble in the past she would never be here so whatever he did must be pretty fucked up. Too bad he didn't remember doing anything to even land him in here.

They sat in silent until Mrs. Harris, whose eyes were glaring at Connor the whole time, cleared her throat and began.

“We've received a report about Connor being in possession of drugs on school campus and we've already done a full search of your locker--”

“And you can just do that? Check my locker?” he asked annoyed.

“Yes we can.”

“Must've been disappointing to see it empty,” Connor looked down at his hands disinterested and picked at the skin around his cuticles. “Considering I've never even used my locker.” 

“Connor, we take reports like these very seriously and just because they aren't in your locker doesn't mean we can't clear you yet,” Connor could still feel her gaze on him. It kind of made him feel suffocated, like he was in the spotlight and more than just a pair of eyes were trained on him. He shifted awkwardly in his seat trying to disappear into it. “To ensure the safety of all students we are going to need to perform a search of your possessions.”

“No,” he snapped almost instantly. “I don't have to do this.”

Mrs. Harris dug through the pile of paperwork on her desk till she pulled out a small booklet. _Official Handbook for West Chesterfield High_ was scribbled across the front with their school logo on it. She flipped through it till she found what page she needed and began to read aloud. 

“Students who are suspected of consuming illegal substances on school grounds will immediately be searched and tested by appointed school officials and will face possible expulsion,” she read flipping the page. “Any student refusing to submit to the search or testing will also face possible expulsion.” Once she finished reading she closed the handbook and placed it back on her desk.

Silence fell over the room briefly as all three just sat there. Mrs. Harris glare on Connor continued to feel like daggers until Cynthia decided now would be a great time to chime in.

“My son has nothing to hide,” she started causing Connor to scoff and roll his eyes. “he will be happy to corporate, right Connor?” 

He wanted to laugh. He honestly didn't even know if he had anything in his bag. Last time he checked he was running low on his supply, and wasn't sure if he had used the last of it or not. 

For him this seemed like a win-win either way.

If they found his stash he would be expelled and would never have to ever deal with the assholes of this hellhole ever again. And he could _finally_ get the sleep he's been craving all fucking day.

But if they didn't find weed at least he could prove he wasn't as big as a fuck up as his parents and now the school thought he was. Maybe his mother might even be proud of him.. maybe. 

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. As if that would ever happen. His mother? be proud of him? God he would love to live in whatever fucked up dimension that is. 

He handed over his bag reluctantly. He just didn't like people going through his shit. Mrs. Harris searched through his bag right there in front of the two Murphy's, and it didn't take long till she was pulling out a small baggie with a variety of pills. _Right_ , Connor thought to himself, _I forgot I still had those._

He heard Cynthia gasps next to him and once again felt the presence of beady eyes on him. He sank further into his chair. Mrs. Harris continued to search through his bag finding the now empty water bottle he used to have vodka in and the small amount of weed he still had left. _Wonder after she expels me if she will let me have my shit back so I can get high_ , Connor thought. 

“Connor you're aware that having all of this in your possession,” she gestured to all the crap littering her desk from him bag, “is cause for expulsion.”

“So expell me,” he snapped. 

“Surely there must be some we can do,” Cynthia said. She didn't care whether or not Connor was expelled all she cared about was how it would taint the Murphy name as if it wasn't already news that Connor Murphy was batshit out of his mind.

Mrs. Harris contemplated the request before speaking, “90 days at a sober-living facility. Effective Immediately,” she said. “Connor can go to school by day and can spend his evenings getting clean. While on school grounds you are to follow all rules or else you will be expelled immediately.”

“I'm not going to fucking rehab,” he snapped anger sizzling inside of him. He had already been to rehab once and he didn't want to go back. He didn't need to. It was a waste of time and he didn't need to hear Larry complain about how much money he was wasting away getting Connor help. again. 

“It's not rehab Connor it's a residential outpatient treatment facility.”

“Sounds a lot like fucking rehab to me,” he scoffed folding his arms across his chest. _No. Absolutely not fucking happening. No way in hell--_

“He’ll go,” Cynthia spoke. 

There was that anger. That white-hot anger that has been present throughout his whole life. That anger that had gotten him into so much shit and continued to keep getting him in trouble. It bubbled and all it took was Cynthia's words to pop it.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” He yelled practically jumping out of his chair in utter disbelief. He didn't care that it fell over as he got up quickly. 

“Connor,” she said trying to get her son to calm down with no avail.

“You want to get rid of me _that_ fucking badly you're just going to throw me in some bullshit rehab and forget about me?” He yelled.

“Connor it's not like that.”

“We just want to help,” Mrs. Harris added.

“I don't fucking need help and I don't fucking need rehab!”

God he just needed to smoke. And to get the fuck out of that room. He didn't have a problem. He was fine. Evan was helping him and that's all he needed. 

“Connor listen to me,” Mrs. Harris called trying to get his attention. “I'll admit I was in the same situation as you when I was younger. I was an alcoholic who destroyed not only my own life but the people I care about most around me. I know it's not easy I'm twelve years sober and I still have a hard time but I'm able to push aside the urges with the help and techniques I've learned from places like the one you'll be at. I know you don't want to hurt your friends or your family and I believe that if you try, if you really try, you can get sober and live a happier life.” 

Connor never expected when he woke up this morning passed out in a strangers lawn he would be on the brink of suspension, and on his way to freaking rehab. They had wrapped the meeting in the principal's office up, Connor realizing he had no say in the matter and just let the “adults” talk. They had swung by his house to grab his things. He packed very lightly for someone who was about to spend the next 90 days at some ‘residential outpatient treatment facility.’ He packed a few clothes and toiletries, enough to fill his backpack, and even found his phone which was in the heap of clothing he had on the floor. Once he was finished packing he stormed out of the room he wouldn't be allowed to sleep in for the next month and a half. 

The car ride there was awkward. Connor was still fuming, picking at his nails to distract himself from how much he wanted to punch something. Cynthia remained quiet until they pulled up in the driveway or what looked to be a ordinary house. 

“You ready sweetheart?” She asked as she parked.

“Fuck off,” Connor grumbled getting out of the car. He didn't want to go inside but he couldn't stand being with her any longer. 

He walked to the front door, Cynthia following behind him. The door swung open quickly without even knocking. He was met with a man who couldn't have been older than 25 with short brown hair and glasses. 

“You must be Connor,” He said offering his hand out. Connor ignored it. “I'm Erik, the counselor at this wonderful establishment. Please come in,” he gestured moving so the two could enter the house. Connor stood there not wanting to cross the threshold into the house. He didn't need this. He didn't need rehab. Cynthia gave him a slight push inside. 

The house, from what he could see, wasn't anything extraordinary. It was a house. Stairs leading upstairs once you walk in the door, dining room to your left and a small office to the right. They were lead to the office for the billions of questions Erik had to ask and stacks of paperwork Cynthia had to sign off on. 

It all took way longer than it needed to. At some point Connor had dozed off in his chair as Cynthia and Erik discussed what he would be doing for the next 90 days of his life. He was woken up with a jab to his side and a sharp glare.

“-All the information is in here,” Erik said handing him a binder. He stared at it blankly before Cynthia took it and tossed it on his lap. “But a quick lowdown: group sessions, everyday, one-on-ones with me, daily. Curfew is 10 p.m. and is strictly enforced. You are not to leave the house for your first week unless it's to school or schedule group activities. You are on dishes duty in the kitchen and you will need to earn the right to your cell phone,” He rambled listing off a bunch of crap that basically went in one ear and out the other. Erik extended his hand for Connor’s phone. He grumbled as he pulled his phone out from his jean pocket and handed it over to Erik. He was too exhausted to pick a fight anymore. 

“Thank you,” he said opening his desk drawer and placing his phone in it. “Okay so we are just about done here we just need to search your belongings first make sure you're not bringing anything in here that could affect yours or another patient's sobriety,” he said. 

“Great another person violating my privacy,” he mumbled under his breath before tossing his bag at Erik. He searched his bag quickly before handing it back to him.

“Okay we are all set here uh let me get someone to give you the tour of the house while your mom and I finish this paperwork,” he said getting up and pulling a kid who looked roughly about his age with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes aside. They talked briefly, Connor couldn't hear what they were saying, before Erik came back. 

“This is Colton he's going to show you around the house.”

“Great,” Connor grumbled as he got up, grabbing his bag, and following the other male. 

“It's a standard house,” He said plainly. “Nothing to fancy.” He showed him around quickly mostly just pointing to rooms and breezing through them clearly not in the mood to give a house tour. Connor couldn't care less really, but what else was there to do. They finished in the room where Connor would be sleeping. 

“You're sharing with Ty so good luck,” he said clasping a hand to his shoulder before leaving to his own room down the hall. 

The room was just like the rest of the house. Nothing fancy. It had two beds on each side of the room. A guy with jet black hair occupied one of the beds. He glanced up from his book meeting Connor's eyes and a smile spread across his face. 

“It's about time I got a roomie,” He set the book down. “I'm Tyler or Ty whichever works.”

“Connor,” He replied tossing his bag on the other bed. 

They didn't talk for the rest of the time which Connor appreciated. He didn't feel in the mood to speak to another human and he was dying to sleep for more than ten minutes. His body collapsed on top of the bed. He didn’t remember what time he finally stopped, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, but he did remember hoping he didn’t wake up from the nightmare that was his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is uhhh a mess im sorry. 
> 
> Thanks for reading I appreciate you.


	3. Nothing Has To Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 of Connor first official day at rehab...

Connor was used to being woken up by screaming. Most of it directed at him telling him to either wake up or how badly he fucked up. Today he was woken up with screaming but it was entirely different. 

He wanted to believe that yesterday never happened. That it was all one big messed up dream and that he wasn't actually at some rehab, but the screaming off two strangers voices told him otherwise.

“I know you took it Michael! Give it back!” A voice yelled beyond the door.

“I didn't take your stupid stuffed animal now leave me alone!” the other shot back equally as loud. 

Connor just groaned throwing himself back down on the bed and folding the pillow over his ears in attempt to drown out the noise. It was just muffled voices at that point. He wanted to go back to sleep, but not that much later his roommate.. _oh god what was his name?_ was shaking him and telling him to get up. 

“fuck off,” Connor mumbled rolling on his side away from the other male. 

“Connor seriously you're going to be late for school and Erik is going to be pissed at both you and I if you don't wake up,” the kid said. _God what was his name?_ Connor continued to wonder. 

“I'm not going.”

“Do not make me dump water on you because I will,” he folded his arms across his chest.

“Fine,” Connor huffed kicking the covers off of himself and swinging his long legs over the side of the bed to get up. “I'm up, okay? now leave me the fuck alone.”

The dark-haired male just rolled his eyes as he went to his side of the room and started shoving things into his backpack. Connor didn't really feel like changing or going to school or really doing anything that wasn't getting high or taking a nap. Nonetheless he dug through what he had packed grabbing a pair of black ripped jeans and a plain dark grey tee. It was almost identical to what he was currently wearing, but Connor’s wardrobe was limited to black jeans and grey hoodies. He didn't like changing in front of people but his roommate, he would remember his name eventually, was too occupied with doing whatever he was doing to pay Connor any attention. He changed quickly, leaving his dirty clothes on the floor because that's what he would have done at his own house. 

He glanced at the clock his roommate had on his nightstand, _06:43._ He was never up this early. He still had over 40 minutes before school actually started, but there wasn't a chance in hell he would spend more than he had to here. How sad is it that he'd rather go to school than be here?

He grabbed his bag, walked down stairs, put on his shoes, and right before he got the chance to open the door to leave someone called out to him. 

“Connor you're leaving quiet early for school,” Erik said smiling at him. _Why is he so happy? Is he not aware it's six in the fucking morning and there's nothing to smile about?_

“Yeah well you know don't want to be late or anything,” Connor replied sarcastically.

“You didn't eat breakfast.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You didn't eat dinner either,” Eriks eyes narrowed at him. “you fell asleep before Jazz finished.”

“I ate before I got here,” he lied. “I'm fine really I just gotta get to school.”

Erik sighed pushing up his glasses, “Colton will take you. I'll go get him.” 

Not even a minute later the same boy who had given him the house tour was standing in front of him, keys in hand, asking him if he was ready. He nodded before following him out of the house and into the car. 

It was silent for the most part, soft music played from the radio but other than that neither of them said a word till Colton pulled up to his school. 

“You get out at 3 right?” Connor nodded.

“I'll pick you up in the back lot, okay?” Again Connor nodded and moved to open the door. He walked the short distance from the car to the school doors, sighing to himself as he pushed open the doors and was instantly met with the sound of students chatting and lockers slamming. He hated this place so much.  
**\---**  
Biology was the only class he had with Evan. It was sixth period so he had already dealt with five periods of pure bullshit. He sat down in his usual seat in the back, the seat next to him where Evan usually sat was empty. He felt his pockets for his phone going to text Evan before, _oh right I don't have it._

He pulled out his notebook opening to a fresh page and started to doodle on it. It was something Connor did often when he was bored and he was constantly bored. Just as the bell rang Evan dashed into class taking his seat next to Connor. He shot him a questioning glance as he looked up from his drawing.

“I-I couldn't get my-my locker open,” Evan whispered trying to not interrupt the class and pulled out his required material. 

Evan meticulous took notes the whole period while Connor just turned back to his drawing as the teacher rambled on. Connor wondered how two completely different people can become friends but don't opposites attract or some bullshit? 

The minutes ticked by until the bell rang. Student filtered out of the class as he waited for Evan to put away his stuff. When he finished the two walked out of the classroom and down to Evan’s next class. Connor walked Evan to some of his classes when he was close enough to and not halfway across the building. Their schedules didn't line up as perfectly as they would have wanted so they didn't see each other most to the day. 

“Did you e-ever find your phone?” Evan asked.

“No luck,” he lied. He had found his phone, but counselor jagoff had taken it for him. It was probably easier to say he couldn't find it than explain why he didn't have it. 

There was something about telling Evan he was forced to be in rehab that scared him. He didn't want Evan to treat him differently. Everything in his life was currently being flipped upside down and rearrange and maybe it was a little selfish to keep this from Evan but he just wanted something to stay the same. He wanted some control over his life. 

“I-I could help you look-look for it if you want,” Evan offered. 

“Nah it's fine.”

The warning bell rang and they both bidders each other goodbye before heading to their classes. The remainder of the day was uneventful and before he knew it the final bell rang and he made his way to the back lot where Colton was. _From one prison to the next_ , he thought as he climbed in the car. 

Colton attempted small talk asking him how school was but Connor just scoffed and put in his earbuds, blasting music till they pulled into the driveway. He didn't want to get out because he didn't want to deal with all the people inside. Erik had told him he was to have group sessions and one-on-ones with him daily and he wasn't exactly thrilled to do either. He took in a deep breath before getting out of the car and taking his time with entering the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proof read this so sorry if there is like a million mistakes. I start school up again tomorrow so I'm going to try extra hard to stay on top of updates but we will see.. anyways thanks for reading I appreciate you all.


	4. Here For Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rules are meant to be broken, right?

“Connor is there anything you want to share with the group?” Erik asked. They were all currently sitting in a circle sharing about their days. Many of them were open about what events occurred that day, some were more brief considering they haven't done much at all. Now apparently it was Connor’s turn to share, and he didn't want to be here at all. He sat with his arms folded across his chest, slouched in his chair, zoning out whenever someone talked. 

“Nope,” he replied staring blankly at the wall behind Erik. There were shelves on the wall with framed photos and art projects that looked like they were made by a four year old.

Eriks sighed, “Okay well since Connor doesn't want to share then I guess this is it,” He closed his notebook and dismissed everyone. “Connor can we talk?” Erik asked once everyone else filtered off to other areas of the house. Did he really have a choice? He stared at the man unresponsive till he motioned Connor to his office. 

“Sharing is an important part of this program Connor,” he said once they were both seated across from each other.

“Yeah well I'm not doing it so you can kick me out if it's _that_ important.”

“I'm not going to kick you out Connor, all I'm asking is for you to share in group or,” he paused digging around in his desk before pulling out a notebook and setting it in front of Connor. “you journal your day and we can talk about it in our one-on-ones.”

“You're joking.”

“Recovery isn't something you can do on your own. You need help from other people along the way, and the only way to receive that help is to talk about or tell someone when you're struggling,” he explained.

“Well I'm not struggling so I don't need to fucking keep a diary.”

“It's still early in your recovery it's only get harder from here and you need to be comfortable sharing or else I can't help you.”

“I don't need your help, okay? I don't fucking belong here.”

“Many people who struggle with addiction are in denial they even have a problem to begin with. Everyone that has walked through that door has felt they didn't belong here when they first arrived, but now they are able to accept they have a problem and sought out help,” he sighed pushing up his glasses. “What I'm trying to say Connor is that what you're feeling right now is normal. It's normal for wanting to protect yourself from the judgement of others but I assure you what happens in this house, what is said during groups or even in this office is strictly between us and the members of this house. So for now if you don't feel comfortable sharing, write it down so at least that way I know you're serious about your recovery because if not then I can't do anything for you.”

“Fine whatever I'll fucking journal,” he snatched up the journal. “Can I leave now?” Erik nodded and Connor stormed out of the office and to his room. 

His roommate wasn't there which was a relieve. Connor didn't understand why the smallest things seemed to get under his skin. Why'd he even let something so insignificant as writing in a journal piss him off so much, but he did. He threw it next to his bag and fell onto the bed. 

Maybe he should just sleep? He didn't have anything else to do and he still had to cool down before interacting with anyone else. Maybe he should do homework? He mentally laughed at himself for even suggesting the idea. Him? do homework? that would be a first. Although it would probably make Evan happy. 

He loved when Evan was genuinely happy. 

He was always this big ball of anxiety and constantly worrying that moments when he was calm, smiling and laughing like a normal teen were rare which made them that more memorable. Connor wished Evan was always happy but since he also struggled with mental illnesses he knew that it wasn't as easy to simply be happy. 

He didn't have that much homework, just some assignment in anatomy. It wasn't that much work so maybe he'd do it. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.  
**\---**  
Dinner was awkward to say the least. Connor had argued with Erik claiming he wasn't hungry and didn't want to come down for nearly ten minutes before he gave in. He sat at the end of the table next to some kid who he had yet to meet. Officially that was. She talked during group about her parents not being accepting of her, but Connor couldn't remember her name. He was bad at remembering names in general..

He pushed the food around on his plate but wasn't feeling well enough to eat. Erik had told him that loss of appetite was normal for people going through withdrawals. 

He was assigned to dishes for his house chore so after a painfully boring but loud dinner he started them. Connor hated doing chores like any other teen, but he did them anyways. If Cynthia were to walk in right now and see him actually cleaning she might have a heart attack. Once he finished he trudged back upstairs catching Colton in the hallway.

“Hey,” he greeted Connor as he came up the stairs.

“Hey?” He replied back hesitantly. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Colton asked.

“Fuck yes,” Connor sighed in relief, not caring about whatever consequences they would face if they were caught. He needed to get out of this house so of course he took Colton up on his offer.

Colton smiled at him checking the hallway for anyone that could potentially catch them before signaling to follow him. He didn't know what he was expecting maybe sneaking out the back but they just strolled out the front door without anyone even noticing. Colton unlocked the car and they both hopped in. 

The drive itself was calming. Connor didn't know where they were going and by the looks of it neither did Colton. It was nice in a way. Whenever he was stressed or pissed off he would just drive around, and even though he wasn't in control of the car he could still sit there and enjoy it. Faint music was playing from the radio but he didn't recognize the band. Colton was humming along drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove. 

“You wanna get some food?” Colton asked breaking the silence. “I noticed you didn't eat at dinner.”

“I'm good,” Connor said resting his head against the window. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to go back to the house. It had all been too much too fast. One moment he was at school, his life nowhere near perfect but he was getting better and then the next he was being shoved into some rehab and evoked of all his freedoms. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about the whole situation. Angry he supposed, but then again he was always angry so was anything new?

“You can't just go all day without eating.”

“I'm just not hungry,” he shrugged. 

Colton dropped the subject reluctantly. He looked like he had more to say but didn't and instead kept glancing over at Connor as he drove as if the boy in the passenger seat would suddenly disappear or something. Connor just ignored it as he watched everything pass by in a blur. 

“So,” he started “How'd you end up at Pleasant Springs?”

“It was either get expelled or come here and of course Cynthia would never tolerate me being expelled so she sent me here,” Connor explained.

“Who's Cynthia?”

“My mom, but I refuse to call her that because she hasn't ever truly been a mother to me.”

“That sucks,” Colton stole another glance at him. “My mom wasn't the best either but I'd still give anything to have her here. Uh sorry,” he said clearing his throat. “I shouldn't have said that we should uh stick to the basics, you know? What's your favorite color? your lucky number? are you a pineapple on pizza kind of guy?”

“Black, 10, and absolutely not,” He answered finding it probably best to not dig into Colton’s pass since he seemed uncomfortable with already sharing that much with Connor. “What about you?”

“Green, 24, and I could go for a Hawaiian pizza right now.”

“Ew. You're disgusting,” his face twisting in disgust. _Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza and it never will._

The rest of the car ride was filled with pointless banter and by the end of it Connor’s face hurt from laughing so much. He hadn't felt this way around anyone since Evan and it was surprising a nice distraction from everything going on in his life right now. 

He just wished things would have stayed that great.

They made their way into the house and almost instantly was met with Erik glaring at them with disapproval. 

“My office now,” he said harshly.

They both exchanged glances before heading to Eriks office. 

“I think you just a record for amount of rules broken on the second night Connor” Erik said after closing the door.

“Awesome,” A smirk spread across his face. He didn't even try and he already set a record. Wow. 

“It was my fault,” Colton said quickly. “I needed to clear my head and I forced Connor into coming. It's my fault and I know I messed up. I'm sorry.” Connor stared at Colton wide-eyed. _Why the hell was he saying he forced me into coming? This was as much my fault as his._

“You put both your sobriety at risk you do realize that?” They both nodded. 

Erik sighed taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, clearly stressed over the current situation. “I'm going to need to test you both.”

“But we didn't--”

“You shattered any and all trust the moment you two walked out that door, and as much as I'd like to believe you I still have to test you.”

They both submitted to testing and afterwards Erik just sent them to their rooms. He was probably too angry and disappointed to deal with them anymore. 

“Hey I'm sorry,” Colton said once they were outside his door. “I shouldn't have dragged you out. It's only your second day and I should have known it would get you in trouble.”

“It was my decision Colton you don't have to apologize.”

“But I put your sobriety at jeopardy. You could have--”

“But I didn't,” Connor cut him off. “I'm fine and so are you just don't sweat it dude.” It was weird trying to comfort someone. He was really bad with words and always seemed to hurt the other person. “I'll see you tomorrow, okay?” Colton nodded before they headed off to bed. 

His roommate was already asleep when he entered. He quickly changed his eyes landing on the black journal next to his backpack. He reached down and grabbed it along with a pen from his bag. 

_I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be writing in this but since at group all people did was talking about their days I guess I'll talk about mine.. or well write about it._

_Today started off really bad, but right now it's not total shit. I broke a record today and I had a good time without even being drunk or high!_

_I don't know what Colton and I are, if we are friends or not, but he seems like a good guy and I hope I get to actually get to know him better. He seems like the only person here I'll be able to tolerate._

_Also sorry Erik I know you're going to read this one of these days and I wanted to apologizing for being such a great rule breaker :)_

Connor closed the journal when he was done and placed it on his nightstand along with the pen. He smiled to himself as he fell into bed. 

Today was a decent day all he could hope for was that tomorrow would be relatively the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah the old pineapple on pizza debate...
> 
> anyways thanks for reading ♡
> 
> also yeah Colton is Colton Ryan I'm not that creative. sorry.


	5. I Wanna Get Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really short and I'm sorry...

Connor had been hunched over the toilet bowl throwing up for the past ten minutes. He was going through withdrawals, his body desperately craving nicotine and the other deadly toxins. He hadn't been feeling well for the past couple of days. He had a headache he couldn't shake and since Erik was worried about the risk of people abusing ibuprofen he couldn't take anything to numb the throbbing of his skull. He was always cold and his hands would get shaky at random times. He knew these were all symptoms of withdrawals, but he didn't realize how awful they would be and how long they would occur for. 

Today marked one week since he first entered this house meaning he was only a week clean and so far it wasn't a pleasant time. 

He was struggling with withdrawals and Erik was still pissed at him for the whole leaving the house with Colton thing. Also because he wasn't journaling like he was supposed to. At group he would sit tentatively listening to other people stories and experiences, but only the ones that held his attention so not many. The whole thing was still difficult to grasp. He was living in a sober-living home with 11 other people all trying to get over and conquer their addictions.

He dragged himself off the tile floor of the bathroom, feeling disgusting he headed to the sink to splash water on his face. He looked awful. His cheeks were sullen, sharp, and boney and had dark circles under his icy blue eyes. His hair, like always, was a matted mess. He always thought he looked awful that's why he stopped caring to even look, but now he was actually staring back at his reflection and it kind of made him want to punch the mirror. He sighed making the decision to not because then he would have to pick the tiny shards of glass out of his skin, and wash the blood off his hands as he stared at the distorted image of himself, and he really didn't want to explain nor had the energy to explain to Erik why he went psycho and punched a mirror like some stupid overly dramatic guy in a movie. 

After a few more seconds of staring at himself with self-hatred he forced himself to leave the bathroom entirely. It was still early in the morning and he was almost certain no one was up. He snuck down the stairs quietly and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The house at night was eerie, but it was also peaceful. There was always so much going on that the deadness of everything was a nice change. He gulped his water down placing the cup in the sink. He would have to do the dishes later but for now all he wanted to do was sleep.  
**\---**  
Connor was slowly beginning to resent the weekend. Normally he would long for, it was the only break he had from the constant hell he faced at school, but now he hoped they wouldn't come. Spending all day at Pleasant Springs was worse than the eight hours at school. 

There was always something going on in the house. Something petty and flat out annoying. Today it was Jazz turning the bathroom sink blue when he dyed his hair, yesterday it was Anja and Sonia at each other's throats over the tv remote. It was always something and always nonstop. It reminded him a lot of his actual house where there was constant fight back and forth between Larry, Zoe and him. 

He also simply missed Evan. School was now really the only time he could actually talk to him and although it was mostly during passing periods and before school if he got there early enough it was still nice. Evan was the only one who genuinely cared about him, he was the only one who didn't treat him like he was a walking time bomb ready to explode if you said the wrong thing. He didn't treat him like he had a problem, because he knew what that was like himself. To be seen as nothing more than a label, and that Connor was extremely grateful for.

Everyone here walked on eggshells around him, treated him like he was fragile and they could easily reach out and shatter him. It was annoying and so having someone like Evan who treated him like a normal person was like taking a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a burning building. 

Currently he was sitting outside on the porch swing reading _The Old Man and the Sea._ He had found it in the basement when Erik had asked him to move boxes a couple days ago collecting dust so he decided to give it a try. 

He had always loved to read. Maybe it was because it was easy to lose yourself in a world that wasn't your own or how easy it was to relate to the characters. Like somehow the author was telling your story and you couldn't wait to see how theirs and potentially yours would end.

Connor found it surprisingly easy to relate to the main character: Santiago. He hasn't caught a fish in a while and is therefore deemed unsuccessful and a failure by everyone. Much like how Connor who hasn't done anything with his miserable life is casted as a fuck-up. 

He was currently at the part where Santiago does actually get a bite. He is wrestling with the Marlin in this ongoing battle on pulling the line and being pulled back by the fish. In rooting for Santiago is was like he was also rooting for himself. The fish symbolized all of Santiago’s dreams, if he pulled and reeled in the fish he would have everything he ever wanted, but if he slipped, if he let go all his dreams would swim away and all he would be left with is himself. 

With Connor it wasn't a fish that symbolized his dreams. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted from life. He wanted to be treated not like the crazy psychopath everyone thought he was, he wanted to stop disappointing so many people, and he wanted simply be happy, but all of those were out of his control. It wasn't like reeling in a fish, and everything he wanted would come true. No, he actually had to change if he wanted any of that to happen. He couldn't just toss bait out and hope for someone to take it, he would have to do this himself. 

He could do this. 

He was already starting to change in a good way. He was a week clean, and despite being irritated majority of the time he hasn't blown up on anyone, yet. 

So yes, he could do this if he put the effort in. He wasn't normally one that put effort into anything, but he wanted this, no, he needed this and he'd be damned if he let it get eaten by the sharks.


	6. Lost My Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +Connor has a lot of negative thoughts  
> +panic attacks occur I'm sorry  
> +heed story warnings

Connor felt his scars start to itch as he walked into school on Monday. This morning at the house was filled with more yelling and he couldn't seem to quiet the voices in his head. 

_worthless._

He felt himself grow smaller, wanting to disappear into his large sweatshirt. 

_waste of space._

He bit his inner lip hoping any pain would dull the voices screaming in his head, but it wasn't enough. He tried to focus on the lesson his teacher was giving, trying to distract himself from the itchiness of his forearms, but again he had no luck.

_failure._

Connor was nothing. He hadn't accomplished anything other than pissing off his family and get hooked on drugs. Would he ever amount to anything?

_Of course not, idiot, you're useless!_

He felt his throat constrict and his fingers tremble against his thigh. He should have never been born. Everything would have been easier that way. His parents wouldn't have to worry if he’d come home at night, or be constantly disappointed in their child's behavior. They could be the perfect family they've always wanted to be if he never existed. 

_pathetic._  
useless.  
They would be happier if you just offed yourself. 

Connor was a burden, that's all he ever was. When he was little and drew all over the walls with crayons, burden. When he was six and ended up with pneumonia, burden. When he was in second grade and threw the printer at Ms. G, burden. When he was ten and tried to show off to Zoe by doing a kick flip off the park bench and ended up having to get stitches, burden. When he first started drugs and ever since then has fallen into this downhill spiral and has caused nothing but trouble, burden. 

He needed out of this stuffy classroom. The walls were starting to feel like the were closing in and he felt like everyone's eyes were on him, watching and laughing as they witnessed crazy Connor actually lose his shit. He fumbled with his bag before rushing out of the room.

_Worthless._  
failure.  
pathetic.  
useless. 

The words echoed in his head as he made his way to the bathroom. He pushed open the door, looking to see if anyone was there, before locking the door and leaving himself alone with his thoughts. He gripped the sink tightly, his knuckles turning almost as white as the porcelain. He stared down unable to bring himself to look at himself in the mirror. He knew what he would see if he did.

_Monster._  
Good for nothing.  
School shooter.  
Fag. 

Connor felt frustration and anger toward himself well up. He needed it all to stop. His own thoughts were ripping himself apart. He needed quiet. 

With a few shaky intakes of breaths he felt his legs weaken, unable to keep himself up. He slid to floor, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to keep his tears from spilling onto the disgusting bathroom tile. 

_freak._  
loser.  
outcast. 

He didn't deserve to live. He was the equivalence of gum on the bottom of your shoe: annoying and troublesome. Everyone hated him. He wasn't “special” or “important”. Hell he could disappear and the whole town could throw a parade because Connor is gone and now we don't have to worry if the school will get shot up anymore! He meant nothing because he was nothing. 

It didn't matter if he was in rehab attempting to clean up his act. That magically didn't erase the years and years of horrible things he did. He would still be the same Connor he always was but clean. A monster who doesn't do drugs. 

But god did he really crave a fucking cigarette right now. He needed something to calm down his thoughts that's seemed like they were on a train with no brakes, unable to stop till it crashes. till he crashes. 

_stupid. stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid._

Of course he couldn't get clean or stay clean nonetheless. As soon as he got out of Pleasant Springs he’d be right back on his bullshit, but at least he can gloat about how once he was 90 days clean… if he even made it that far in the program. It had only been 9 days and it was already hard enough. How the hell was he supposed to make it another 81 days?

He felt lightheaded at the speeds of his breath. His whole body felt weak, and felt like he was going to throw up as his brain continued to bring up everything he has ever done wrong. 

He stayed there for a while. He didn't care if he missed classes, he had somehow made it to his eight period before breaking down so he'd only really miss one. Once the final bell rang and his breathing had somewhat calmed down he figured he should probably leave. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to rid an evidence of his breakdown, before he unlocked the bathroom door and made his way to the backlot. 

He found his way to where Colton was parked, liked always, and climbed into the car without a word. It was routine. Everything in his life now was routine and it was starting to drive him mad. 

“You okay?” Colton asked as he started to drive away from the building. He tossed Connor a concerned glare as he waited for the reply he never got. 

After a short and silent drive he got out of the car and immediately went to his room. He was drained, numb and empty and tired. He tossed his bag down to the group before slipping under the covers. 

_Freak._  
Loser.  
Pathetic.  
Monster.  
**\---**  
His shoulder was shaken awake not long after he had fallen asleep. 

“Hey, it's time for group,” Colton said gently.

“No,” he grumbled pulling the covers over his head. He didn't want to go to group. He didn't need to hear about what the other people were struggling with because it didn't matter, and he sure the hell wasn't sharing how today he felt like offing himself and he still does. 

“C’mon if you don't go Erik is going to put you on bathroom duty and trust me that's not something you want.”

Connor just laid there unresponsive. He didn't care if Erik put him on bathroom duty or whatever, he didn't care about anything other than getting sleep. 

“Connor c’mon don't make me do this the hard way.” 

“fuck off,” he snap.

Colton sighed and Connor could hear his footsteps padded around the room. _good_ , Connor thought, _leave._

Everything happened quite quickly. One moment he was in bed and the next he was taking in a sharp breath as his body landed on the hardwood flooring. 

“What the fuck!” he yelled glare snapping to Colton who dropped the mattress back on its frame and smirked.

“I warned you,” he said. “plus this way is more effective than dumping water on you.” He walked around to the other side of the bed to where Connor was on the floor offering his hand. Connor smacked it away, groaning as he pushed himself up. 

“I fucking hate you.”

Colton let out a small laugh before heading downstairs. He roughly ran a hand through his hair as a frustrated breath left his lips before following behind Colton to the living room.

Connor sat in pure boredom as he listened to some girl with long black hair and glasses talk about how her family is basically disowning her because she's too much of a “problem” to deal with. _Me the fuck too girl,_ he thought as he picked at the skin around his nails. He really did need to reprint them but nail polish wasn't allowed in the house because it could be used to get high, or so Erik told him. 

He tuned in halfway during Colton’s share.

“-And I know I didn't use because it was just dream, but I had felt so real and…” he sighed running his finger through his hair in frustration. “I don't want to talk about this anymore,” 

“We will talk about this in our one-on-one, okay?” Erik said and Colton nodded in response fumbling with the sleeves of his hoodie. It was a rare vulnerability and he quickly had to tear his eyes away feeling like it was something he shouldn't have seen.

“Okay,” Erik cut through the silence. “We have time for one more. Connor? Do you have anything to share?” He asked and all eyes turned to him. His arms burned and again he could hear those voice pop up like bubbles in his head.

_Freak._  
Crazy.  
Monster. 

His hands were shaking as he snapped the rubber band on his wrist desperately trying to distract himself. 

_Burnout._  
Loner.  
Stupid. 

“I-I,” his voice trembled as he tried to speak without much luck. He pulled on the rubber band to hard causing it to break. His arms burned as he scratched the skin. 

Erik looked at him with sympathetic eyes, “Hey we're going to call it for today. Good shares everyone,” he said to the group. “Connor, we can talk about this later if you want.”

_He's pitying you. You're such a fuck up he has to take pity on you._

He just nodded as everyone left the circle going about their lives. 

“Do you need to talk?” Erik said towering over him as he sat, unable to move from his chair. He nodded slowly not trusting his voice anymore. Weakly he got out of the chair and followed Erik to his office. 

“How's your symptoms?” He asked once they were both situated in their respective seats. 

“F-fine.” He was still feeling the occasional nausea and lethargy, but other than that it was manageable now. 

“Good. Good. That's good,” he said nodded along. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I-I'm scared,” he broke feeling tears threatening to spill. 

“Of what?”

“Relapsing.”

“Connor--”

“I-I don't want to f-feel like a burden any-anymore,” he choked out between sobs. There was anything he could do to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. His head dropped to his hands as he tried to hide. Vulnerability was the one thing he tried so hard to hide from everyone. He hated the idea of having his insecurities showcased for everyone to gawk and prod at. 

_Weak._  
Pathetic.  
Coward. 

Erik let him cry till he didn't have anything left in him. Till the tears stop falling, and his throat and chest burned from all the sharp intakes of breaths. Erik offered him a Kleenex which he took, feeling gross from the whole thing. 

They sat awkwardly in silence for a bit, gripping the cuffs of his sweatshirt. At least now he was able to breathe again. 

“You're not a burden Connor,” he spoke after a bit. “Nothing I'm going to say is magically going to make everything alright, but you do matter to people Connor and nobody would be better off without you, okay?” 

He sat letting the words resonate with him. His head hurt, but at least for now it was quiet. 

“If you ever feel like that just know my door is always open,” Connor nodded staring down at the floor afraid to look Erik in the eyes after just breaking down. “No one should have any doubt that they matter, and you do matter Connor, remember that.”

“Can-can you just do one thing for me,” his voice was weak but he spoke anyway.

“anything.”

“Don't walk on eggshells around me or-or treat me any differently, please. I don't need you pitying me.”

“I'm not pitying you Connor,” he said. “Addiction is a disease just like depression or anxiety is. You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay? All I'm trying to do is help you along the way.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled although he didn't know if it was loud enough for Erik to hear. He need that more than he ever thought he did. He needed someone who was willing to put up with his shit and be there for his ups and downs, and wouldn't just leave once things got messy. 

“Get some sleep, okay? We can talk more about this tomorrow if you want.”

He nodded as he pushed himself out of the chair, moving to open the door and walking up the stairs to his room. Crying was exhausting and fatigue took over his body. He changed out of his clothes to cleaner ones, crawling into bed once again, allowing sleep to take over him before his brain had the opportunity to attack him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was really tough for me to write even though I was just projecting my own thoughts and feeling onto Connor. sorry bud. 
> 
> I'm sorry this was late I haven't been feeling the best but I'm trying really hard to keep up with this story.
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay safe lovelies


	7. Postpone

He barely had stepped into the doors of hell, school, before Zoe was storming up to him. He was already annoyed and he didn't even have to hear her voice, her presence alone annoyed him.

He had done his damnedest to avoid her at all cost since he knew he couldn't handle her high or not, and sobriety didn't help but make him more irritable than he already was. Zoe just pissed him off, plain and simple. Zoe and her know-it-all-self made him want to punch a wall. 

Somehow he had survived the first encounter with Zoe since rehab and he really wasn't looking forward to his second. 

“We need to talk,” She said approaching him visibly angry. 

“I rather we didn't,” he responded barely paying her any attention as he continued to walk down the hall. Zoe huffed as she turned to follow alongside of him.

“Do you have any idea what this is doing to mom?”

“Do I care?”

 

“She's your mother too Con--”

“She stopped being my mother the second she took that jagoff side,” He hastily shoved his books into his locker, anger rushing through his veins. 

“You're an asshole!”

“This isn't news Zoe,” he slammed his locker closed relieved at how light his bag was now. Actually doing work and lugging around books was a hassle. Going to school was a pain in the ass, but he had nothing but time on his hands now that he was forced into rehab. He walked straight past his sister not fazed as she called his name down the hallway. 

There was still a few minutes before the first bell rang, and instead of heading to class he sought out to find a blue polo and khaki wearing teen. Evan tended to either hang out by his locker or in the library in the mornings. It wasn't long before Connor was pulling up a chair next to him and kicking his feet up on the table.

“Hi,” he said smiling softly before returning his attention back to his homework.

With Evan everything was simple. They didn't need to talk and instead enjoyed each other's company while doing their own thing. Evan was doing what looked like math and Connor, well, Connor was just staring at his best friend with an overwhelming amount of admiration. 

To anyone else Evan looked average, but to Connor he was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Especially now where he was so lost in concentration that he’d let himself unconsciously do things that made Connor want to spontaneously combust. His tongue poked out slightly as his brows furrowed with confusion as he attempted to solve the problem on the page. It was absolutely adorable, and of course thinking that made him actually want to combust because _oh god.._

Luckily before this thoughts had chance to break wild the bell rang. He got to his feet while Evan packed up his stuff. 

“Hey do you want to hang out we-we could watch a movie or s-something?” Evan asked as they walked the halls to their classes. 

That feeling of guilt rushed over him. He had yet to tell Evan about his rehab situation and he definitely didn't plan on it. What sucked about being stubbornly selfish and not telling your best friend that you live in a sober-living facility was having to lie directly to his face every time he asked to hang out. 

His excuses where unoriginal and he could feel Evan growing more and more suspicious with ever bullshit excuse. Of course Evan would catch on, he wasn't an idiot and Connor wasn't the best liar. It wasn't like he didn't want to hang out with Evan, he did, but he sure the hell wasn't going to invite him to hang out at Pleasant Springs. And it wasn't like he didn't want to tell him either, but he was scared that he would disappear once he saw how truly fucked up Connor was.

So selfishly he said nothing and let Evan think that every day he would go home to his house because where else would he be?

“Sorry Ev, Cynthia wants me home after school for whatever reason,” He shrugged trying to pass it off as the truth. 

“Oh,” Evan said softly visible upset by Connor blowing him off yet again. He wanted to say something, anything that would return that soft smile onto Evan’s face, but he didn't have the chance. Evan was slipping into his classroom as he gave Connor a weak ‘see ya later’.

He barely paid attention in any of his classes just trying to get through the six excruciatingly long periods before he could meet up with Evan for lunch. He hated how things ended and not being able to explain himself.

 _more like lie to save your own ass_ , the voice in the back of his head spat.

He shook the thoughts from his head as he entered the cafeteria, searching for sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Evan sat at his normal table looking anxious, like usual, as Jared fucking Kleinman sat across from him.

“--Don't get me wrong I couldn't care less but sounds like he's not being completely honest.”

“What are you two nerds talking about?” Connor asked as he approached the two.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Jared smirked as Connor sat down next to Evan at lunch. “Didn't think you would bless us with your presence today.”

“Why are you even here Kleinman?”

“I'm hanging out with my friend is that a problem?”

“Well, you've never really been a friend for Evan and you only show your face when you need something so, what do you want?” he asked playing with the strings of his hoodie, not fully invested in the conversation but trying to get under Jared’s skin as much as he did his.

Jared was constantly giving him shit and he thought it was only fair to give him a taste of his own medicine every once in a while. His face twisted in angry as he tried to think of a response back to Connor’s remark. _Maybe if he had more than two brain cells he--_

“C-Connor stop,” Evan interrupted placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes met his, trying to apologize without words because he knew just how much Evan hated any sort of argument around him.

“Whatever,” Jared huffed tossing his bag over his shoulder as he stood front he table. “At least I don't ditch my best friend for drugs.” And with that he stormed out of the cafeteria leaving the two social pariah together. 

It was silent between the two for a bit and Connor tried to not let it get to him how Evan scooted slightly away from him once Jared left. 

_He is finally realizing how much of a monster you truly are._

Connor sighed running his finger through his hair, “look Ev it's not that I don't want to hang out with you it's just--”

“If-if you don't want to be friends any-anymore you can just say it.”

“Hey,” he placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder, their eyes meeting as Evan glanced up. “Don't be ridiculous of course I still want to be friends.”

“I-I'm sorry,” he sighed fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “it's just that you've seemed.. distant lately and I-I thought you didn't li-like me anymore.”

Looking into those blue eyes he felt himself break. Evan Hansen the kid who sat in the back of the class, who couldn't even talk to a person without stuttering or rambling. Evan Hansen, who's dorky lopsided smile and soft squeaks of laughter had somehow worked their way deep into Connor's life. He was the first person who showed a genuine interest in Connor and it made Connor want to do something ridiculous, like he could pledge his entire existence to Evan, try to move mountains for him as long as he was happy because in the end that's all Connor cared about. 

He would do anything for this boy, but that's what love does to… _wait love?_

“Don't be sorry it's my fault. I've been trying to work through shit with my family and for once it seems like we are finally in a good place and I don't want to ruin that again.”

“It's o-okay.”

“What do you say we meet at the orchard on Saturday?” he suggested although he had no clue how he was going to slide that by Erik without him actually losing his fucking mind.

“I’d like that,” Evan smiled and everything, for now, seemed to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an outline planned slightly for the rest of this fic but knowing me I won't stick to it.. 
> 
> anyways thanks as always for reading I appreciate yous


	8. When You See My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> possible? tw: mentions of cutting and attempts

Lost in the dark haze of exhaustion, Connor dreamed.

He is sitting on a bed in a small room which he didn't recognize. The room is dark except for the soft amber glow of a lamp on the desk. Zoe is there- she has pulled up a chair and is sitting close to him. Her face is haunted- a mask of misery.

 _“You did this,”_ she says quietly.

Connor is there but not there. He can’t figure out where he is and why Zoe is here. What is she talking about? 

The room is cold, but not as cold as Zoe’s empty eyes staring directly through him. He feels himself shiver as dream Connor makes eye-contact with her lifeless ones. 

_“You did this,”_ she repeats anger filling her voice. She stands, tears welling up in her eyes and fist balled to her side.

He can't feel anything but the slight pain in his chest as his breathing increases. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. 

_“You're not my brother anymore.”_

He's not sitting on a bed anymore instead now he's laying in the snow on a particular frigid night. He could see his breath in the near freezing temperatures. The stars brightly shimmer above his head, and full moon casted its nightly glow. 

His arm starts to burn and his attention is snapped from the sky to it. 

Crimson red. 

A deep gash from wrist to mid-forearm is present, turning the white snow under it a red-pink. It stings slightly, but the cold temperature is making his arm numb from feeling all of the pain. 

Pain.

There's a sting across his face and he's met with Larry’s presence standing merely inches from him. Now it's his cheek that burns and he reaches to touch it. Nothing. But it still burns. Anger has taken over Larry’s body as he glares daggers into his son, his breathing erratic and rough. 

_“You're a disappointment to this entire family!”_ Larry yelled taking a step closer to Connor so close he could feel his hot breath.

_“Freak!”_  
“Monster!”  
“Low-life!”  
“Asshole!” 

People keep appearing in front of him yelling names and insults at him, Jared, Zoe, people he's only seen in the hallways before, pushing him with each word till he's falling back onto the snowy lawn. Cold metal digging into his arm as he bites his bottom lip. 

Red.

Stars.

Red.

**Darkness.**

Connor woke up groggy and with a dull ache behind his eyes. The dream still throbbing in his skull like a pulse, though the details were growing fuzzy by the second. His arm itches and he pulls up his sleeve to look at it. Faded red streak runs up his arm and he sighs as he traces his scar feeling the jaggedness of it. They move from wrist to forearm, tracing the line. His fingers burn against the jutting skin, but he can't seem to retract them. 

He had only taken glances at the scar, mostly in disgust, but this had to be the only time he gave it any attention. He wasn't disappointed. Well maybe a little.. He was tired of fighting with Larry, tired of not being enough for anyone. He had wanted it to work more than anything, but apparently he couldn't even do that right and now all he was left with was a stupid scar and all the same negative thoughts. 

Ty groans tossing in the bed next to him, and drawing him from his trance. He shoves his sleeve down before Ty could wake up and question him about it. The clock is glowing next to his bedside, up earlier than he needed to be. _5:13._ Next to the clock laid the black journal Erik had gave him. He only had wrote one entry in it which only slightly pissed Erik off given that he wasn't sharing during group, his one-on-ones, or in his stupid little diary. He stared at it before grabbing it, flipping to the next clean page.

He didn't write anything in it, no words came to his head, but instead he drew. 

A boy laying on the ground looking up to the stars wondering when everything had turned to complete shit.

**\---**

“Daniel is a piece of shit,” Connor said reaching for more popcorn. Him and Colton had spent the whole day watching movies in the basement. He may have fibbed slightly to Erik earlier saying he didn't feel well enough to go to school. Instead of learning about t-intervals he was watching old fighting movies because that's all the house had.

“Are you kidding me? He is _the_ karate kid,” Colton sounded offended at the insult towards the protagonist of the film.

“Please. The kid doesn't know how to fight at all the _real_ karate kid is Johnny.”

“Danny wins the fight clearing showing who is the actual karate kid.”

“With an illegal kick to the head!”

The debate went on for a while, basically throughout the entirety of the movie until they had settle on Miyagi being the karate master because he was far too old to be the karate kid. It was playful and Connor found it surprisingly easy to be himself around Colton. 

“I'll get more popcorn while you pick the next movie?” Connor nodded and Colton grabbed the now empty bowl of popcorn and vanished upstairs. He gets off the couch searching the stacks of dvds and vcr tapes. Do people even still have vcr players anymore? 

Since he began at Pleasant Springs he spent a lot of time down here watching movies that he has nearly made it through all of them. They were all mostly super old kung fu or other types of fighting films. Erik had told him that someone who used to live here really enjoyed these types of movies and ended up leaving them here. 

He decided on _The Way of the Dragon_ after skimming the collection for a bit. Bruce Lee was good in anything and his fighting style was always quick and exciting. He put the disc in the player before sitting back down on the couch, waiting for Colton to return. 

There was muffled yelling coming from upstairs. He couldn't make out the voices, but one did sound like Colton’s. He hummed softly and picked at the already chipped nail polish on his nails, trying not to get swept up in all the commotion upstairs. It wasn't any of his business and he sure the hell wasn't going to get worked up over something that didn't even involve him in the first place. 

There was an unmistakable sound of the door slamming close and then silence. Well not complete silence, he could still hear the other party pacing back and forth just above him, and then Colton was coming back downstairs a few moments later. 

He knew that look of pure anger, it was a look he wore too often. Colton just grumbled as he sat down on the couch next to Connor, thighs touching and shoulders brushing each other due to how close they were sitting next to each other. He bit his inner lip forcing himself not to say anything and just let Colton cool off from whatever happened. Pressing play on the movie he tried not to think about just how close the two of them were. 

Right when the assassin sent by Ho attempts to kill the main protagonist, Tang, Colton reaches for the remote and pauses the movie. He sighs running his fingers through his hair before his eyes met Connor’s. 

“I’m sorry I can't stay in this house any longer,” He said. “Do you wanna come with?”

He wanted to say yes. He spent too much time here and he wanted to get out. But the other part of him, the small part of rationality he had, wanted to say no. It would be like his second night all over again with Erik yelling at the two of them about how they would have to regain their trust back. 

“C’mon,” Colton said dragging him from his mental debate. “It's passed your one week and as long as I get you back here before curfew you'll be fine.”

“Wait you're saying I could have actually left?” He was is disbelief. The whole time he thought he could only leave for school, practically going insane in the house when he could have left the whole time! 

“Yeah. You didn't read the rules did you?”

“The binder thing?”

Colton nodded. 

“nope.”

“Well yeah after your first week you're allowed to leave the house as long as you have permission and are back before curfew,” Colton explained. “Now let's go I'm jonesing for some good food and not whatever crap Jazz makes.”

Connor gave in and they found themselves at a small diner not far from the house about twenty minutes later. There was a fair amount of people inside but not busy per say. They sat across from each other in a booth, ordering when the waitress came. 

“So is it totally wrong for me to ask what was all that yelling earlier,” Connor asked.

“It was stupid don't worry about it,” He shrugged. Connor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by food being placed in front of him. As much as he wanted to know what happened he figured he should just leave it. If he learned one thing about being pissed off 24/7 was he hated when someone asked him why. Most of the time he didn't have a reason beside he was so fucking deal with it. 

Small talk filled in the silence as they ate, laughing and joking around with each other. 

“And so I told my parents ‘caffeine is a drug yet you never see anyone going to freaking rehab for it!”

It was relaxing and reminded him of all the times he hung out with Evan. Maybe being around friends made life easier and that's why everyone was so willing to do anything to not be alone. 

Like Evan who was sitting across from his family friend in the same dinner as the person he considered his best friend watching him laugh on what he assumed was a date. Connor had blown him off to go on a date. _Great._ He couldn't help but feel like a knife was slowly being twisted in his chest as jealousy coursed through his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can fight me all you want but it was going to happen one way or another... sorry Ev you'll get your chance one day.
> 
> Also the karate kid part was 100% inspired by himym so there's that. 
> 
> anyways thanks for reading y'all amazing.


	9. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw:  
> +panic attacks  
> +negative thoughts  
> +

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like it was overdue so without further ado here's a rare chapter in Evan's POV... it's wild.

Evan couldn't take his eyes away from the booth across the room. His own brain was his enemy, forcing him to stare at the two boys even though his heart was slowly breaking. Their laughter seemed to be the only sound in the diner and it echoed loudly in Evan’s skull. 

He didn't know what to feel. Angry? Connor had blown him off, hell he probably even ditched school, to hang out with this guy. Maybe he was just upset? Connor thought he had to lie to get out of hanging with him. Was he really that repulsive that even Connor couldn't be around him anymore? Maybe all he was feeling was abandoned. Yeah. He was definitely feeling abandoned. His best friend was moving on, had already found someone new and far better than him, and left him behind without ever caring to say it to his face. 

It all made sense. Of course there was no way Evan would ever be able to compete with the guy sitting across from Connor. He looked straight from a tv show or something and he had dimples. Dimples! How on earth was Evan going to beat dimples? All Evan had was a lopsided smile, sweaty hands, and a stutter that sent people running the opposite way. 

He was an idiot. 

In what world did he truly believe that someone like Connor Murphy would actually like him? 

“Evan,” Jared said waving his hand in front of his face. His eyes snapped from the booth to Jared’s. “What the fuck dude, I've been going on for the past ten minutes and you didn't hear a word I said.”

“S-sorry,” He tried desperately to not return his eyes to where Connor was, although he was pretty sure the image was engraved in the back of his head already. He focused his eyes on the cup of water in front of him instead watching some droplets of condensation roll off. 

“What were you even looking at?” Jared turned to look back at Connor, but Evan was already yelling at him. 

“No!” If he saw Connor here he would give Evan hell about it nonstop or he would actually go up to Connor just to piss him off. Evan didn't want his presence here known and to keep it that way Jared couldn't know of Connor's.

Jared's turned back to Evan, confusion written across his face. “What the hell is going on with you Evan?”

“N-nothing! I-uh I’m not feeling good can we g-go home?” He pleaded. It hurt more than he’d care to admit seeing Connor with someone else and he was actually starting to feel sick. He just needed to go home and not think about how the only person who didn’t make him feel like the anxious mess he was, was leaving him behind. 

Jared looked at him skeptically, pushing his glasses up on his face, but reluctantly agreed without anymore questions. They slid out of their booth, Evan’s eyes were on his shoes till he got to Jared’s car. The ride to Evan’s was silent beside the faint sound of The Who playing on the radio. 

When they arrived at the Hansen household Evan expected Jared to leave, but instead he followed him inside. Evan didn’t have to guts to actually tell him how he just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear because it seemed like it would be in everyone’s best interests, so he let him make himself comfortable on the couch while he went to the kitchen. He tried to ignore how his hands shook as he filled a glass with water. Had he remembered to take his meds this morning? He remembered turning off his alarm that reminded him to take them but he didn’t know if he actually did. Maybe that was the reason he was feeling like he did. 

He wanted to run upstairs and lock himself in his room and never come out, but he couldn’t just leave Jared alone, so instead he walked back to the living room and handed him a Coke he had gotten from the fridge. Jared was flipping through channels on the TV, and he took a seat on the couch somewhat farther away from him. 

“There’s never anything on,” Jared groaned but still continuing to search for something. “You would think that there would be something on but nope. Nada.” 

For once Evan didn’t appreciate Jared’s attempt of masking the silence. He normally did it because he knew Evan was freaking out about something and wanted to give him something to distract himself with, but right now Evan didn’t feel the need to be around people and Jared wasn’t helping. 

He ended up turning on something on the history channel something about the war between the gods and titans. Both weren’t paying much attention to it, simply becoming background noise to drown the uncomfortable silence between the two. Evan tried to control his breathing, his thoughts making that task much harder than necessary. 

How long had Connor been lying to him? He had been rejecting him for the past week. Had that been how long he was lying to him for? And who knows what else he could also be lying about! He probably even had his phone, but made up the whole i-lost-my-phone-for-a-whole-week-and-haven't-been-able-to-find-it crap just so Evan wouldn't text him. 

Connor's his best friend.. or at least he thought he was. Did he really want that little to do with Evan now that he found someone else? Was he really just that disposable that whenever someone new came along he would be tossed out on the curb left to fend for himself? 

Did Connor even consider them friends? He had heard him say it, but now he was starting to wonder what, if anything, he actually said was the truth. Had he really just been using Evan this whole time? Sure when he first met Connor that seemed like a Connor thing to do, but Evan had watched him make progress, and deep down he really wanted to believe that none of this was true. Connor wasn't leaving and he would still have his best friend, but maybe he dreamed a little too much, got his hopes too high, and now this is what he was faced with. 

The cold, hard, disgusting truth. 

“So I’m just going to ask because this is driving me insane,” Jared broke the silence, snapping him from his torturous thoughts. “What’s going on with you and Connor?”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“Evan c’mon, you wanted to leave the diner because Connor was there!” 

“That’s not true! I didn't even k-know he was there. I was- I already told you I was feeling sick and I didn’t want to like throw up because that would be incredibly embarrassing and then someone would have to clean it up and I would just feel really bad because they shouldn’t have to and--”

“Evan,” Jared said sternly cutting him off from his tangent. “I saw him there when we left,” His eyes narrowed at him. 

He felt small, like the world was crumbling under him or swallowing him whole. He could feel his throat start to tighten and his heart race increase. Evan sighed tugging on the hem of his shirt, “He was on a date.” his voice was barely above a whisper. He couldn’t actually bring himself to say it because then it would be true and stupidly he hoped it wasn’t. For once he hoped that his brain was just making up shit and it wasn’t actually true. 

Jared stared at him, silent, before doubling over in a fit of laughter, “Are you serious? You’re telling me.. Connor freaking Murphy was on a.. date! That is by far the best thing I have ever heard!” 

His laughter echoed throughout the house. He was on the brink of tears when he finally pulled himself together enough to talk again. 

“I can’t believe psycho boy got a fucking date. Wow. The world really has gone to shit.”

Evan sat there fidgeting as his thoughts progressed and turned even more cynical and darker. 

“C’mon Ev this is funny why are you so upset?” 

_Connor would never want to be friends with someone as pathetic as you! Of course he would ditch you you're not important to anyone!_

“Holy shit,” Jared started wide-eyed. “Don't tell me you actually have a crush on Connor freaking Murphy!” 

_Everyone would be better off without you! Your mom, Jared, and especially Connor. It's no wonder why they immediately jump on an opportunity if it meant getting away from you. You're disgusting. You're a freak. A worthless piece of--_

Suddenly his thoughts were too much. The room seemed to be spinning as his chest heaving in rapid succession. A feeling of disgust builds in his stomach, climbs at his throat, shaking as he tries to gulp down as much air as possible. 

Wet, hot tear stream down his face. He's crying. He know if he doesn't calm down, if he doesn't control his breathing he's going to end up getting sick or passing out or who knows what could happen to him. 

It's stupid. He's stupid. This is all his fault. He shouldn't be crying. He shouldn't be freaking out, because he brought this, all of this, upon himself. 

There are hands on him, gripping into his shoulders and he's trying to pull away, but he can't seem to shake Jared’s grasp. 

“Evan! Breathe!” Jared yelled although it sounded barely above a whisper to Evan. Everything was so fuzzy. He couldn't see from the tears in his eyes and his ears rang as his head pounded. 

_Pathetic._  
Stupid.  
Worthless. 

“In for seven out for eight right? C’mon Ev do it with me. Breathe with me.”

He had no idea how long they sat there, Evan trying to control himself while Jared yelled at him to relax, but it felt like a millennium before his breathing finally evened out and his tears dried on his face. His lungs burned and his throat was dry and raw. 

Evan is too ashamed and too weak to look at Jared. He feels gross and exhausted and incredibly guilty for putting Jared through that. He might be an asshole at times but no one should have to deal with babysitting Evan while he has yet another breakdown. 

He expects Jared to leave, to walk out the front door and never deal with Evan or his problems ever again. He waits for him to leave, but Jared still sits there and clears his throat.

“I'm sorry,” He said softly, in a tone so gentle Evan almost doesn't recognize it. 

“Wh-Why are y-you--” Evan sucks in a breath, his voice still weak from his attack. “I'm the one who should b-be apologizing to you.”

“No, I shouldn't have pushed you Ev. I'm really sorry. And I'm really sorry for yelling at you the whole time I have no idea how to handle panic attacks I was starting to freak out myself because it seemed like you weren't ever going to calm down.”

“S’fine,” Evan mumbled wiping his face.

“This is probably a stupid question but are you feeling better?” 

“I wouldn't say better I-I'm just tired.”

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked.

Evan shrugged, “If-if you want.”

Jared ended up staying, watching Inside Out with him till his mother came home. They ended up having pizza and listening to Heidi tell stories from work till almost midnight, before Jared finally headed out. 

He helped his mother with the leftovers before trudging upstairs. His phone buzzed on the nightstand as he settled into bed.

_From Jared:  
>>Text me if u need anything._

He shot back a quick thank you message before locking and plugging his phone in to charge.

It would hurt like all hell to lose Connor, but at least now he knows he wouldn't be alone. He had Jared and maybe that's all he really needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me trying to force my love for Jared onto you guys: plwease


	10. Oh Well, Oh Well

“Well if it isn't the man of the hour!” Jared exclaimed as Connor met up with them at Evan’s locker like normal. 

“Bite me Jared,” Connor snapped feeling particularly irritated after this morning's events. Erik had started calling him out on his shit, he was disappointed that it had been approaching two weeks and Connor had yet to say anything in group or write in the journal he was required to do. 

He might have told Erik to go fuck himself before storming out of the house, so he definitely wasn't in the best mood to deal with Kleinman’s shit.

“Oh someone must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or was it your date sticking it to you too hard,” Jared smirked devilishly as he leaned against the set of lockers. 

“My what?”

“Evan and I saw you on a date at Harry’s yesterday isn't that right Ev,” he nudged Evan slightly who was caught off guard and stumbled forward a bit nearly crashing into Connor. “I mean good for you, really. Getting laid helps brain activity.”

Connor glared at Jared his fist balling at his sides, “I wasn't on a date.”

“Sure looked like it.”

“J-Jared,” Evan spoke. He knew this would happen. Jared was never good at keeping his mouth shut, that's kind of how the story of him throwing up at their grade five choir concert spread around school. 

“So how was it?” Jared pressed. If there was one thing about Jared it was how annoyingly persistent he was on pissing off the people around him. “It's a huge deal to lose your virginity--”

“I said it wasn't a date!” Connor yelled gathering the attention of just about everyone in the hall. They all turned, some pulled out their phones to record in case this was the moment they were all craving for four damn years. Connor Murphy was finally going to lose his shit. 

Evan stared down at his sneakers trying to ignoring the feeling of everyone's eyes on them. He wanted to say anything to get Jared to shut up or to get Connor to calm down, but his mouth was working against him. The whispering of the student body got louder as the tense atmosphere between Connor and Jared hung. Connor looked like he was going to punch Jared and, well, Jared looked like he was a kid in a candy shop. 

Jared laughed, obviously amused with himself, as he clasped Connor on the shoulder, “Whatever you say man,” before brushing past him and heading to class.

Evan expected the students to disperse at this point but many of them still stood observing them, waiting to see Connor's next move. He felt like a caged animal at the zoo, and he suddenly wished he could go back to the first couple months of school where he was invisible to everyone.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Once he finally felt like he had control of himself he opened his eyes, gaze falling to Evan who quickly avoided eye contact and focused down to his shoes. If Connor wasn't so pisssd off he probably would have felt a little guilty about dragging Evan into this, but instead he went to leave.

“Show's over assholes!” He yelled at the students in the hallway as he stormed off.

He just really needed to get high.

**\---**

Somehow Connor had forced himself to make it through the whole day at school although the idea of contacting his dealer loomed over him for the nine periods. He hadn't gotten high. He had no way of contacting his dealer, and he definitely wasn't going to buy any off some punk at school. 

It had taken him almost four periods to finally calm down from this mornings fiasco. Kids kept whispering about him as he passed them in the hall which wasn't new but normally he could block them all out with the help of a little weed. 

He didn't bother looking for Evan at lunch. As much as he wanted to hang out with him he didn't want to risk running into Kleinman again. He wasn't sure if he would be able to control himself if Jared started with him again, and there was still a really, _really_ , big part of him that wanted to deck Jared for simply being his asshole self. 

It didn't seem to matter that Connor hadn't found him at lunch because Evan was ignoring him. In the one class they share together, Biology, Evan had purposely sat on the opposite of the room leaving the seat next to him empty. He tried to convince himself it didn't matter, but spending the whole period staring at the back of Evan's head instead of focusing on the lesson would probably suggest otherwise. 

For the life of him he couldn't figure out what he had done. Maybe it was just all the wrong he done in the past coming back to bite him, or maybe somehow Evan had figured it all out by now.

The thought alone made him feel sick. 

If Evan knew, well, it would certainly explain why he was going out of his way to ignore Connor. He expected Evan to leave once he finally saw how messed up he was, but he didn't expect how much it would hurt to lose him. 

The wintertime beach was lonely. There were occasional joggers on the front, but it was mid-November so no one really came to the beach. It was relaxing and calming, the only sounds were the ones of the waves against the sand. The sky was grey, sun hidden behind the dark cloud that rolled in. 

The briny aroma reminded him of all the summer he used to spend here with Zoe before everything went to shit. Before when it still felt like they were brother and sister.

Zoe would always beg him to join her in the water, but Connor always had a small fear of it. It wasn't so much about the possibility of drowning it was more so the fact that the ocean was unknown. It was dark and tempestuous, seeming as though it held deep secrets beneath the water. It stretched out past the horizon, its deep blue blending into a sharp line of light blue where the clouds had yet to reach. The idea that something was out there, far out there in the beyond, scared him and he couldn't explain why. 

He sat, knees pulled into his chest, on the cool sand watching as the waves continued to wash up on shore, fingers numb from the chilly weather. He had been here since school had gotten out, using Colton's doctor appointment to his advantage. 

The last place he wanted to be right now was surrounded by people who wanted to talk about their feelings. After all the shit that happened at school today he needed some time alone. He felt like he had been under watch all times of the day since entering rehab, waiting for him to mess up. It was almost like how it was after he had gotten out of the hospital. His mother tried her hardest to be around more, but her constant barging in and overprotectiveness had really pissed him off after a while. 

Connor was familiar with being alone. He preferred it this way. Being around people, trying to control himself so he wouldn't have an outburst, was exhausting and _god_ was he tired. 

He sat with his thoughts for a while, for once they weren't nagging him, before getting to his feet. He brushed the sand from his jeans, pulled his bag over his shoulder, and started his trip back to the house. 

It wasn't a far walk from the beach, but it was definitely longer than the one from school. He didn't mind though. The longer he was out of the house the better. He wouldn't have to be subjected to petty drama that always seemed to rise.

He reached the steps of the house twenty-ish minutes later, sighing as he opened the door. He half expected Erik to be standing there, arms crossed with disappointment across his face, but he wasn't. The house was oddly silent for once. He kicked off his shoes before heading upstairs.

Ty was sitting on his bed doing his homework when Connor walked in. He glanced up before giving him a small greeting.

“Hi. Uh where is everyone?” Connor asked tossing his bag down next to his bed.

“Cameron and Olivia are at a movie, Colton is at his appointment, and I think the rest of them went to get ice cream.”

“So it's just us?”

“Ben and Taylor are in the basement, but yeah pretty much,” Ty shrugged before closing his notebook and shoving his papers back in his folder. “So I gotta ask,” he started. “What's going on with you and Colton?”

“What?”

“You've been spending a lot of time with him and I gotta know if you two are like a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, you know like dating or whatever.”

Connor rolled his eyes, “No.”

“Good,” he said. “Colton's not exactly a saint, I mean none of us are, but he was in some real deep shit and I'm just giving you a warning. I'd watch myself around him. He's not exactly the perfect innocent guy he paints himself as.”

Connor ignored the warning. Ty had no room to talk. None of them did. They all made mistakes. None of them were perfect and he for one wasn't about to judge the only person in this house that he could actually tolerate. For years Connor has had all sorts of crazy rumors spread about him, and if personal experience has taught him anything he wasn't just about to believe Ty. 

He grabbed some clothes and a towel before heading to the bathroom. It was a rarity for the bathroom to be unoccupied and he sure the hell wasn't going to let that go to waste. Plus he kind of smelled like the ocean and needed a shower. He let the scorching water wash away everything, his muscles relaxing under it. 

He finished up quickly, changed into his clean clothes and drew a little penguin in the steam on the mirror. He was ruffling his wet hair with his towel when he nearly ran into someone in the hallway. He looked up noticing it was Colton.

“Sorry. I didn't know you were home.”

Colton looked at him, eyes wide with panic, “I need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> better strap yourself in it's about to get wild™


	11. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> +violence  
> +drugs are mentioned  
> +blood and gore  
> +

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all ain't ready for this...

Connor kept silent as he followed Colton up two flights or dingy metal stairs. Then through a weathered wooden door, down a long dirty hallway with one light bulb and wallpaper peeling and cracking on the walls. Separate rooms lined the walls on both sides. There had to be 10 different ones in this corridor alone. They walked down to the end, Colton visibly tensing as he approached a room marked _272A._

Colton had barely said anything the whole ride here which lasted nearly an hour. Connor kept questioning, kept arguing and demanding, but Colton never told him any specifics of what they were doing. What he was getting him into. 

He had no idea where he was. He knew it was some shanty motel in some high-crime area, but that was it. He was too busy arguing to pay attention to where Colton was driving and next thing he knew they were far out of the city for Connor to recognize anything around him. 

Colton needed help and that's why he came, but now he was quickly questioning if maybe he should have had paid more attention to Ty’s warning earlier. _‘He’s not exactly the perfect innocent guy he paints himself to be.’_

Colton takes a deep breath before gathering the courage to knock on the door. It takes merely a couple of seconds before the door swings open. A man, tattoo exposed on both arms and up his neck answers the door, glaring down at Colton. They stare at each other for a bit before a smirk washes on tattoo mans face.

“Ol’ coyote back to the den!” He exclaimed, eyes flickering over towards Connor. He stared at him, eyes running up and down his body, before he turns back to Colton. “Who’s the fresh meat?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Colton said coldly. “I need to see Demo.”

“Ah, Just make sure he doesn’t touch anything,” Tattoos stepped aside to allow them inside the room. 

It was small. A bed was against the wall and a large table was in the opposite corner. Connor tried to ignore the pills, snuff, and alcohol haphazardly spread across the wooden table. Two men sat at the table. One looked disheveled, messy blonde hair poked from all directions as a loose cigarette hung from his lips. He also had tattoos. Less than the one who opened the door, but the black ink still covered nearly half of one of his arms. A huge man was next to him, more fat than muscle, his girth barely contained between the the arm of the white chairs. Tattoos weren’t visible on him, but seeing the others Connor wouldn’t be surprised if he did have them. They had stopped whatever they were doing when the two teens had walked in. Their eyes shifted from Colton to Connor and back again.

“The hell are you doing here?” the large man scoffed eyes narrowing at Colton.

The room was suffocatingly tense. A million questions rushed through his mind. _What the hell was going on? Who were these people? Why had Colton brought him here?_

“You know damn well the reason I’m here,” Colton said sternly. If he was afraid he wasn’t showing it.

“Unless you have my money you can get lost.” The man's gaze dropped back down and continued to do whatever task he was doing before they had entered. He examined small baggies of white pills before placing them in another pile on the table. Blondy also returned to his work, taking the baggies the other had placed in the pile and put them inside a small brown box. They paid no attention to the two, and that had for some reason clearly pissed Colton off. His fist balled at his side, and his breathing increased to puffs of anger. 

“Give me the fucking microfiche and you’ll get your money Demo,” Colton said forcing a calmness in his voice. 

The man, Demo, looks up, stands and starts to approach him. The man laughs directly in Colton’s face. “You got a lot of balls kid.” He clasps a hand on Colton’s shoulder, jaw tensing and eyes filling with a fiery rage at the contact. The man is large, and has little high over Colton, but seeing them so close it seems like he is towering over his friend as he stares down at him. “You walk in here empty handed expecting me to just give you the microfiche? You must be out of your goddamn mind.”

“And so are you if you think I’m leaving here without it.”

The man removes his hand from Colton’s shoulder, glancing over at Connor with a smirk. Connor feels his inside twist with disgust as the man looks at him. He nods and before Connor could do anything he is being pulled back, a hand over his mouth muffingly the ‘what the fuck’ that falls from his lips. He struggles, kicking and twisting his body to free himself from tattoos grip but he doesn’t budge. Panic fills him as he is unable to breakaway.

“I’d hate to see your pretty friend here get hurt because of your empty threats,” Demo cooed his lips curl into a cynical smile.

Colton’s eyes met him briefly before he turned back to Demo, “You’re dead.”

Colton’s fist connects with Demo’s face, sending him backwards slightly. The whole room is stunned, watching. Connor takes the opportunity to bite tattoos hand, who retracts his hand, stunned enough for Connor to kick him in the shins, hard, and free himself from his grasp.

“You son of a bitch!” Demo yells charging towards Colton. His fist are flying, some connecting, some Colton can dodge. It’s a brawl both jabbing and punching each other. 

Connor is tackled, slamming into tattoos chest. He struggles, again, to push tattoo off of him with one hand while the other is swinging as hard as he could. His fist connects with tattoos jaw, his head snapping to the side, and blood spraying from his mouth. Connor reached down to swing again, but the man arched his body, throwing him off him. He landed on his back, hard, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

Before he could move tattoo had jumped on top of him and gotten his legs wrapped around his torso, pinning Connor’s arms down with his knees. Connor squirmed to get free, but he had little luck. Pain exploded in his cheeks and jaw as tattoo rained down punches to Connor's unprotected face, over and over. 

He could taste the blood in his mouth, feel the pain radiating across his face. All he heard was ringing in his ears as his vision got blurry with each punch. 

Adrenaline coursed through his body. It probably would have been easier to lay there and except that he was going to die here, but with his new found energy he pushed his feet against the floor and trusted his stomach towards the ceiling. He only rose a few inches above the ground, but it was enough for Connor's arm to be freed. He pulled his arms across his face, blocking the next couple punches with his forearms, then threw both fist up at tattoos face. They connected straight with his jaw, he head falling backwards with the impact. He lost his balance on top of him allowing Connor to push him off. He scrambled to his feet, tattoo groaned as he rubbed his jaw. 

The sound of a struggle from the other side of the room caught his attention. He peeled his eyes from his attacker to see Colton was being held by blondy and Demo was repeatedly landing blows to his gut. Demo’s breath was ragged and he stopped for merely a second to catch his breath. His mistake. Colton stomped on blondy’s foot swinging his elbow backward into his face. The impact caused him to crash against the wall. 

Movement next to him made his eyes flicker back down to tattoo. He was struggling to get up, but nonetheless trying. This guy was a tough s.o.b. Connor drove his foot into tattoos side. Again, and again, and again. He wanted all of this to stop, his body was panicking and his brain was simply telling his to keep kicking in order to survive. Connor pulled back his leg ready to deliver yet another kick to his side, but tattoo had flipped around, grabbing Connor's feet and throwing them to the side. His hip and shoulder connected heavily with the floor, pain flashing on his left side. Tattoo was on him yet again. 

Connor was kicking and punching, squirming under the mans weight. The rolled, each gaining the advantage for only a split couple of seconds before toppling over again. Each time someone had gotten out of the others grip they were right back under it after maybe a lucky potshot. Fist flew and feet kicked. Tattoo clawed, skin on his forearm was irritated and red from how deep and forcefully he dragged his nails along it. 

They continued to roll, beating each other nearly senseless. Connor could hear what sounded like someone yelling, but it was so faint and masked by the ringing he wasn't sure if it was real. Connor finally got a good angle to slam his elbow down; slamming it into tattoos nose. He heard an unmistakable crack as it connected, and then he was being pulled off him. He flailed thinking it was one of the other two men in the room. 

“We gotta go!” He heard what sounded like Colton yell in his ear. He was being dragged out of the hotel room. He pushed Colton off of him, glancing at him. Blood and already forming bruises all mottled of dark purple and greens was what caught his eye. He looked awful, but he probably looked just as bad. He certainly felt awful. 

“Run,” Colton took off at lightning speed, Connor followed suit. He ran as fast as his legs would allow him. His lungs burned as his chest pounded and rattled. They ran down the two flights of stairs, nearly falling down them as he missed just a few steps, through the parking lot and into the car. Colton stopped at the car staring at him. This hardly seemed like a reasonable time for a break so Connor spoke up.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need you to drive,” Colton said.

“Why th--” Connor stopped talking when Colton had pulled his arm away from his stomach revealing a deep gash. His hand was stained with his own blood and his shirt was torn. Connor stared his brain going whack as he tried to process everything. 

_Holy shit. Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit._

Colton had gotten fucking stabbed and he was probably going to bleed out and Connor would be-- 

Colton tossed him the keys weakly which he caught at the last possible second. He unlocked the doors, watching as Colton used the hood of the car as support to get to his door. He slid in and so did Connor. He glanced at Colton, arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut from the pain. Connor started the car and quickly whipped out of the parking lot as fast as he possibly could. 

He watched as the rundown motel faded in the background as they sped away. He didn't know where he was going he just knew he had to get as far away from the motel as possible and preferably find Colton a hospital. He was losing a lot of blood and he probably didn't have much time before he went into shock. Or worse. 

“Give me your phone,” Connor said taking one hand off the wheel and extending it for Colton to place the device in.

“What?” 

“Give me your goddamn phone I need the gps to find the nearest hospital.” 

Colton grunted as he shifted pulling his phone out of his pocket and giving it to Connor. He searched for the nearest immediate care center, finding it was 7 minutes away. _Did Colton even have 7 minutes?_ He already looked pale and sweat beaded on his forehead. 

Connor floored it, he had to at least try.

“Hey,” Connor spoke. “I need you to talk to me so I know you're not dead.”

“I'm not fucking dead,” Colton groaned.

They still had five minutes according to the gps. 

“Okay well then talk to me.”

“Connor--”

“Please,” he said sincerely. He had never felt like this in his life and he didn't know what to do.

“Fine,” Colton sighed. He started telling the story of how when he was eight his family had gone to Colorado for a ski trip. They stayed in what he called a haunted cabin and told Connor all this crazy shit that happened there during the weekend they stayed. His voice was getting weaker towards the end of the story and Connor tried to push him as much as he could to continue. His grip on the steering wheel was deadly, knuckles white and aching. 

After what felt like centuries Connor saw the huge building, in red bold letters, Emergency. He went around the curve a bit to fast, his head hitting against the window. He stopped once they reached the entrance, jumping out of the car without even bothering to shut it off and rushing over to Colton’s side. He helped him out of the car and took his arm wrapping it around the back of his neck so he could lean against Connor and not put as much pressure on himself. He dragged him into the hospital, explaining Colton’s injuries to the lady at the desk before nurses rushed over to them. The took Colton, placing him on a gurney, and rushing him down the hall. 

Connor had his head in his hands, pulling his hair slightly as he sat in the waiting room. He had no idea how long it had been since the wheeled Colton out. The clock behind him echoed loudly in his ears.

_tick. tock. tick. tock._

He glanced down at the white tile flooring, seconds later a pair of shoes was blocking him from doing so. He looked up seeing a woman with dark hair and a warm smile looking down at him. She wore purple and black scrubs and had her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asked softly. “You've been sitting here for quite a while.” Connor shook his head in response. All he needed right now was to hear Colton was okay. Alive and okay.

She sighed, “You should really get that looked at,” She pointed at his forehead. “It looks deep enough that you might have to get stitches.”

“I’m fine,” he said harshly. He knew she was just trying to do her job, but he couldn't care less about what was going on with him. Colton was his main priority right now. 

“At least let me get you some fresh clothes so you can clean up a bit.” Connor wanted to argue, tell her to get lost, but he agreed. She came back with some clothes, he didn't really want to know whose or where they had come from, and a bag to put his dirty ones when he changed.

“Your friend is still in surgery. You go get cleaned up and I'll let you know if anything changes, okay?” Connor nodded watching as the nurse walked away. He pushed himself out of the chair and to the bathroom. 

He was right about looking awful. He had a deep cut just above his eyebrow on his left side, and an already forming bruise under his eye. His lip was busted and has a small cut on the bridge of his nose. He stared at himself stunned by his appearance. 

He forced himself out of his clothes and into the ones the nurse had given him. The hoodie was navy blue and large. The sleeves went past this hands and hem stopped midway down his thigh. It engulfed his small frame, but it was warm and comforting. He changed from his jeans, which had collected a few more rips in the knees after tonight, to joggers. Those were a little shorter on him but he’s like 80% leg so he's not surprised. 

He used wet paper towels to wash the blood off his face and knuckles. It took him a bit, but once he was finished he didn't look as bad as he did when he came in here. He still looked awful just not as awful anymore…

He shoved his dirty clothes in the bag before leaving the bathroom. He thought about heading back to the waiting room, but he couldn't sit still right now. He knew he couldn't. He was so anxious and panicked that he started walking around the floor. 

There wasn't anything on the floor. Mostly just desk and patient rooms. Further down there was a vending machine, and the thought of food made him sick. He passed a middle-aged man in the hallway talking on the phone. He was angry, yelling at the person on the other end to “do their fucking jobs.” 

He hated hospitals. They had always sort of creeped him out and after spending two weeks in one he confirmed that they were just as creepy as he always thought. It was dreary, silent, and overwhelming. Everything was white, and the constant smell of saline drove him mad. Every day someone would come in here, each with their own stories. Every day someone would begin to grieve the loss of a loved one, celebrate the beginning of a new life, or fight for their lives. It was scary, yet astonishing all at the same time. 

He must've walked the floor about four times the whole way around before finding himself back at the waiting room. He was tired and his body simply wanted to collapse. He sat in the uncomfortable chairs, waiting, and waiting, and waiting, clock ticking violently behind him.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihihi this was my favorite chapter to write (it's also the longest so go me!) 
> 
> my poor boys :( 
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading <3 I appreciate you more than you'll ever know. 
> 
> **also that 80% leg thing I couldn't leave out im totally not sorry**


	12. Oxygen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEST. MUSICAL. THEATER. ALBUM. 
> 
> GUYS THEY FREAKING WON A GRAMMY IM SO PROUD!!!

Connor skimmed the massive yellow pages, wondering if anyone even used them anymore. Everyone had everyone's number programmed in their phones already so it wasn't necessary to have a huge book anymore. Nonetheless Connor didn't have his phone and he never bothered to learn anyone's number because why would he? 

He flipped the pages, scanning the pages briefly before eyes landed on the name and number he was searching for.

_Cynthia Murphy._

He used the pay phone in the hospital and dialed her number. The ringing dreaded on until he heard her voice on the last ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hey mom,” he greeted forcing himself to call her mom. He hadn't said it in so long it felt unnatural and awkward.

“Oh Connor! Is that you?” 

“Yeah.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief, “It's so nice to hear your voice honey. Are you okay?” 

“I'm okay I--”

“Are you in trouble?” She asked.

“No. No, I'm okay I just,” he sighed rubbing his temples with his free hand while the other gripped the phone against his ear. “I-uh I'm at the hospital and--”

“You're at the hospital?! Oh my god Connor what happened?” she asked panic rising in her voice. 

“I'm fine just uh one of the kids in the house with me got in an accident so I brought him here,” he explained.

“Is he okay?”

Connor sighed tugging on his hair slightly, “I don't know.”

“Connor I'm so sorry I-I-- what hospital are you at?”

“Elmwood.”

“Okay I'll meet you there.”

“You don't have to--”

“Connor I am your mother I will not have you sitting in the hospital by yourself.” 

Connor took a breath, “okay.”

It took Cynthia an hour to get to the hospital. It was pretty far from where they lived, on the opposite side of the city, and in the time it took he called Erik and gave him the rundown of everything. He wasn't very happy about the events, and the disappointment that filled Erik’s voice as he asked Connor a dozen question made him want to scream. Connor had managed to convince him not to come, somehow. He wasn't sure if he could handle getting yelled at right now along with his mothers overbearingness. 

Cynthia approached Connor who was sitting in the waiting room when her eyes landed on him. As soon as she saw the bruises and cut on Connor's face her motherly instincts kicked in and immediately panicked. again.

“Connor, what happened?” she asked grabbing his face to inspect his injuries further. 

“Just a couple scrapes and bruises,” He pulled away, a flash of worry and fear splashed across Cynthia’s face. “I'm okay really.”

“Have you heard anything?” Connor shook his head in response. It had been hours and still nothing. It was getting close to the late a.m. and the hospital seemed emptier. There was still a few staff, but not much and it was so quiet Connor question if any of them actually were there. 

They sat together in the waiting room. The clock still ticked behind them. Something about Cynthia’s presence made it a little easier to breathe. They had never been close, but he could see how much she truly cared for him. Being sober taught him to see a new perspective one where his mother wasn't siding with Larry because she simply hated him, but because it's what she thought would help him in the long run. 

She grabbed his hand , squeezing it gently for reassurance. She wasn't going anywhere. 

**\---**

He groaned as he woke, bright light had him squinting as he adjusted. It didn't take long with the help of those words for all the memories of last night to come flooding in like a wave. 

The desperation in Colton's eyes, the fight, Colton getting stabbed, the drive to the hospital, calling..his mom. His eyes shot to the right where she had been sitting before he fell asleep, but the seat was empty. He panicked, eyes scanning as much of the floor as he could see from his position.

“You're awake,” she said popping around the corner. “I got breakfast.” she showed off a McDonald's bag and a tray with two orange juices. Connor let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

“Thanks,” His voice raw. Cynthia handed him a cup on orange juice and a McMuffin, sitting down next to him. Connor took two bites of his sandwich before he felt sick. He wrapped it back up and put it back in the bag. His mother gave him a concerned look but didn't pester him about it. 

“So good news,” she started. “Colton is it of surgery and in the ICU.”

“Is there bad news?” He asked not wanting to hear any of it. 

“Nope,” Cynthia shook her head. “They have him on some strong meds so he hasn't woken up yet, but one of the kind nurses said she would tell us when he does.” 

They sat waiting only breaking the silence when Cynthia asked him if he needed anything or the one time she told him she would be right back when she went to go answer her phone. He assumed it was Larry by the way she talked with her hands in aggravation. 

Larry wasn't the easiest person to get along with and all they ever seemed to do was argue. Sure most of the time it was about Connor, but they seemed to never agree anymore. For years he hasn't seen his mother happy. He felt slightly guilty knowing the only reason they were still together was because of Zoe and him. She encountered many heated arguments simply because she thought a united family was more important than her own happiness. 

The clock ticked by and after a few hours the nurse who had given him clothes last night approached them both. 

“I heard your friend is out of surgery,” she offered a smile. “that's really good.”

Connor nodded, “Yeah.”

“You can see him if you want. He's still hasn't woken up yet, but the option is available.”

“I thought you had to be family,” Cynthia butted in.

The nurse glanced over her shoulder before leaning down and whispering, “I won't tell if you don't.”

He stared, stunned at the nurse before he looked over at his mom for approval. She motioned for him to go with only the slightest bit of concern in her eyes. He got to his feet and the nurse waved him to follow. They walked down the long white hallway till they got to a set of two doors. The nurse scanned her I.D. badge and the doors slide open. They walked through them and down another hallway till she stopped at one of the rooms. 

“Okay your friend is in there I can give you a couple minutes, but that's it,” she said. Unable to move he simply stared at the room. He couldn't see much of it, a curtain was pulled, but he could see a small tv on the wall and a large window.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and the nurse gave him a encouraging smile, “You don't have to be afraid he's okay.”

Connor nodded, taking a deep breath, before entering the room. It was somber, walls dull and bland. The sun was setting and an warm amber light pour in through the window. The beeping of the EGK and the pump of the ventilator filled the room. 

Nervously he stepped over to the bed. The sight of Colton lain up in the bed broken him. Tubes and wires were attached to him, an IV inserted into his vein. A dark purple bruise formed under his closed eyes along with several others on his jaw and arms. He had a small white bandage just above his eyebrow probably covering a cut. His airway tightened as his lip quivered, balling his fist, nails digging into his palm without a care. He needed some pain to keep him from bursting into tears. 

Colton looked so tired. Pale and weak. His chest rose and fell in line with the machine and the steady beep of his heart rate only added to the scene. 

There was a knock against the door and the nurse was poking her head through. She looked at him sympathetically before asking if he was ready to go. He swallowed the lump on his throat and nodded.

The walk back to the waiting room was silent. He couldn't get the picture of Colton out of his head. Two days ago he was sitting across from Colton listening to him tell him how he wanted to be an astronaut when he was little and how he thought mozzarella sticks were the be-all-end-all of appetizers. He was smiling and laughing and now.. now he was hooked up to machines to help keep him alive. It was surreal how much had changed in such a short period of time. 

As soon as Connor walked back into the waiting room Cynthia was ready to engulf him in a hug which he quickly pushed away from. He didn't mean to be cold and distance, but right now all he wanted was to be left alone. 

“I'm going to get some air,” he said.

He breathed out, bitter winds tossing his hair around. It had been too stuffy inside and now, even with someone smoking like ten feet away from him, he felt like he could breath after so long. 

His legs dragged himself to a bench on the side of the entrance. It gave him view to a busy street the hospital branched off of. He watched as cars raced past, his mind completely blank. He didn't feel physically there like somehow he was dissociating from himself. 

This was his fault, he couldn't help but think. If he didn't agree to go with, if he had just listened to Ty then he wouldn't be here. If he had done something, anything, then things would be different. Colton would be sitting next to him watching god awful Bruce Lee movies, or trying to beat him at Mario Kart, not laying in some hospital bed. 

It made him sick with guilt thinking about it, scars itching under his sleeves. 

He stayed out in the chilly November weather till he couldn't feel his hands and his face felt frozen. Sitting next to his mother when he walked back inside, he let his head fall on her shoulder. 

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled. Cynthia didn't reply just grabbed her sons hand, running her thumb across his busted knuckles, and kissed the top of his head. He drifted off to sleep, feeling as though maybe it should have been him in that hospital bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short because I kept getting distracted by Ben and his amazing vocals wowowo.
> 
> I'm so proud of him for crushing his performance. That's! My! King!


	13. Time-bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> +violence  
> +blood  
> +self-harm

“Connor you have to go to school.” 

Monday had rolled around, and for the entirety of the weekend he spent sitting in uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs. He had tried arguing about not going to school, saying that Colton needed him, but after the two days of no change both Cynthia and Erik thought it was best for him to get out of the hospital for a bit. They claimed they would update him on any changes, but it seemed highly unlikely giving he didn’t even have a phone to be reached at. 

Nonetheless after a couple senseless minutes wasted on arguing Erik was driving him back to the house to shower, change, and grab his things before he went off the school. The house was lively and most of the residents were in the kitchen eating breakfast or finishing their last minute preparations before they headed off to school or work. No one seemed to bother him or shot him any sympathetic glances or tried to comfort him, leading him to believe Erik had yet to tell them what happened. 

He got ready for school slowly. He was exhausted and honestly could care less if he was on time for class or not. It wouldn’t be the first, nor the last time, he walked in mid-period or halfway through the day. The bruises on his face were still prominent and the bags under his eyes almost seemed to blend in with them. The cut on his forehead was already scabbing over, and his lip was still slightly puffy from being busted open. He pulled his hood over his head as he pushed through the doors trying to draw less attention. The last thing he needed was ludicrous rumors spreading around about how he killed someone or something. 

Ignoring his usual meet up spot with Evan he walked to class, taking the seat in the far back and buried his head in his arms. The clocked ticked and students filtered in steadily drowning out the sound. Once the bell rang he tuned out the world, no one gave a damn about Avogadro’s number. He couldn’t help but let his brain wander with what-ifs about Colton. _What if he woke up and Connor wasn’t there? Would he hate him? Would he think that Connor didn’t care about him, that he abandoned him and wanted nothing to do with him after everything?_ That was far from the truth, and if it hadn’t been for both Erik and Cynthia yelling at him this morning he was pretty sure he would have stayed in the hospital no matter how long it took for him to wake up.

That was another thing Connor worried about. _What if Colton didn’t wake up? Everyone kept saying his test are fine, that everything went smoothly during surgery, but what if it didn’t? What if they missed something in one of their test?_ Surely Colton would have been awake by now if everything was okay, right? He didn’t want to think about how unbearable the house would be without him, but his brain did anyways. Would he drop out of the program because Colton wasn’t there? Hell maybe he wouldn’t even have a choice. Erik obviously was pissed and Connor already had previous incidents at the house. It would be cause enough for Erik to just kick him out and Connor wouldn’t blame him for a second. 

At lunch he avoided the cafeteria. Being a senior gave him privileges which allowed him to go off-campus for lunch, which he gladly abused from time to time. His first six periods had gone but painfully slow and he had yet to be given a hard time by anyone yet. People still glanced at him and whispered as he passed but no one had the guts to pull a scene until Jared fucking Kleinman. Of course.

“Ditching to go meet your boyfriend?” Kleinman asked before he could leave the building. 

“Go fuck yourself Kleinman,” he mumbled pushing the door open, not giving Jared the satisfaction of knowing he pissed him off, so naturally the shorter boy followed. 

“That’s a pretty nasty bruise,” He said struggling to keep up with Connor. “Your boyfriend give it to you after you blew him?”

He stopped walking twisting around to face Jared. His fist balled, nails digging into the flesh as Jared sneered knowing damn well he had pushed some of Connor’s buttons. 

“I mean that’s the reason you ditched Evan, right? To deep throat your--”

“What?” Connor cut him off in confusion. _Ditched Evan? What the hell was he talking about?_

“Oh, you don’t remember making plans to hang out with Evan this weekend?” Jared looked like he was enjoying this a little too much. Connor had completely forgotten they were going to go to the orchard. He had been so concerned with Colton’s state that everything else seemed to be lost. _Shit. Shit. This was bad._ “Must be from the lack of oxygen to your brain when you have your boyfriends dick down your throat.”

Guilt pooled in his stomach, twisting it in mild discomfort. “I-I--”

“Forgot,” Jared finished for him, “Yeah we know.”

“Where is he?” Connor asked frantically. 

“If you think I’m going to let you see him after the shit you pulled you must be high.”

“Jared,” the anger was rising in him until he felt like he was going to explode, but he forced a calmness into his voice. “I have to tell Evan the truth.”

“And what is the truth Murphy?” Jared asked folding his arms across his chest.

The words couldn’t see to tumbled out of his mouth. “I-uh-I---” 

“You can’t even give me a straight answer!” His hands flew up. “There is no way in hell I’m letting you hurt him again with more of your fucking lies,” Jared spat. 

“And what the fuck do you care?” Connor yelled, blood boiling. “You ignored him all fucking summer and use him to get your car insurance paid! You think you know what’s best for Evan when you’re the one who has hurt him countless times with that family-friends bullshit!”

“Speak for your fucking self Murphy! I sat through two, two, fucking panic attacks in the past week because you’ve been so occupied with your play toy that he thought you were abandoning him!” Jared had taken a step forward shoving him back. “You think you can just waltz in there with some half-assed apology and Evan will forgive you? No. Not happening. I warned him when he first started hanging out with you and he didn’t listen to me so now I’m finally showing him what kind of monster you truly are.”

His mind went blank, white with anger. Connor is livid and abrasive and amoral, so once Jared starts running his mouth, there’s only one thing he wanted to do: punch him in the face.

Connor swings a fist and it cleanly connects with Jared’s stupid jaw. It sends him toppling over straight to the ground, wincing and cursing loudly. Connor hisses in pain and shakes his hand; he forgot how much it hurt to actually punch someone. The pain was enough for him to come to his sense, realizing the severity of what he had just done. Sure there had always been a part of him that wanted to give Jared what he actually deserved, but now looking down at Jared on the concrete sidewalk rubbing his jaw and groaning in pain he saw it. 

_Monster._

A scream ripped through the air and he quickly looked up seeing Evan running towards them. He crouched down next to Jared as to assess the damage Connor had done. 

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” Evan yelled looking up at him, anger and horror flickered in his eyes. Connor had never heard Evan yell. He had seen him pissed off a couple times, but never to the point where he was screaming at him or looking at him like he was the biggest asshole on the planet. 

His breath caught in his throat, chest tightening as he stared into those eyes that once used to sparkle at him. They were dark, empty, and full of hatred now. 

 

Connor ran.

He ran because that’s what he alway did. He never faced his problems, always running to avoid them. Wet tears stung his face, but he never stopped running. He ran till he was far from the school, till his legs and chest burned, falling to his knees in the middle of the woods, hands clutching and pulling his hair as he sobbed. The image of Colton laying in the hospital was replaced with the one of Evan looking at him in complete horror. 

_Monster._  
Monster.  
Monster. 

He dug around his bag, hands shaky and vision blurry, till they landed on the cool bit of metal. He tugged at his sleeves, pressing the metal deep into his forearm. Red dots popped up and slowly smeared down his arm as took out all his anger and pain out on his arm. It burned more with each line, but it still didn’t outweigh the pain he felt in his chest. 

In the process of trying to protect himself he ended up hurting Evan and had lost him. He ruined everything, like always.


	14. Silence Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Connor finally gets his phone back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this ready yesterday but drive wanted to be a lil difficult and didn't save what I had so I had to rewrite it. I'm kind of disappointed how it turned out.. sorry :///

_Connor lay helpless, his mind spinning as it battled for consciousness. He forced himself to breathe evenly, focusing on bright lights in the ceiling flash by as he rolled down the corridor. His heart pounded; hands grew sweaty as he gripped the sheets of the gurney in two balled fist. Movement was slowly coming back to him._

_Another turn, and another. His ears rang drowning out any noise around him. The lights zoomed by, despair threatening to squeeze the life out of him before the blood lost took him._

_The movement stopped but the lights got brighter. The gurney was placed next to an operating table; several hands lifting him and moving him to it. He settled on his back as swarm of nurses and doctor gathered around him. He felt a prick in his arm, glancing down to see a short lady insert a syringe into his vein. She pushes whatever liquid was inside before withdrawing it._

_Lights were placed in position above him. Monitors started beeping; there was a hum of machines and conversation between people. The light was really bright The room spun though he laid perfectly still._

_The world faded, darkness beneath his eyelids, The realization hit him in that moment, knowing it was ending, right here, right now. He was going to die._

_And he was perfectly okay with that._

 

“Connor,” Erik’s voice cut through the void of his thoughts. The member of the group eyes were focused on him. He wasn't dead. He knew he wasn't dead. That had happened well over a year ago, and no matter how many times he wished it worked, he was still alive, still sitting in group with eyes trained on him waiting for him to speak. “How are you feeling? Is there anything you would like to share?”

“How am I feeling?” He laughed coldly. “I'm fan-freaking-tastic.”

“Why don't you elaborate on that?”

“Elaborate?” Erik nodded. “My best friend thinks I'm a fucking monster and the only person I can tolerate in this house has been laying in the hospital for four fucking days. How do you think I feel?”

“Personally,” he started clearing his throat, “ I think you're angry. You feel abandoned and guilty and you blame yourself what happened to Colton.”

Connor sighed folding his arms across his chest, “maybe you're right,” he said knowing damn well Erik was. 

He wanted to blame himself for all of it. He kept analyzing it, over and over again, looking for all possible ways he could have changed the course of events. He shouldn’t have said yes. He shouldn’t have stayed quiet while Demo and Colton yelled about whatever. He should have taken more consideration of his location. He should have helped Colton when he had the chance instead of freezing up. There was so much he could have done, so much that would have Colton sitting right next to him, but of course he fucked that up just like he did with Evan.

Yesterday he didn't cut with the intent of killing himself. He just needed the pain, the thoughts, and the image of Evan looking at him like he had just murdered Jared out of his head. Numb, tired, and empty he carried himself off the ground and back to the house. No one had seen him when he came in and if they did, they ignored him. He went straight upstairs, entered the bathroom, and grabbed the first aid kit under the sink to dress his wounds. His arms were red, burning and raw, but Connor didn't care. At least now the pain and the consuming image of Evan was gone. 

Cold and alone he climbed into bed; his head blank, and since the whole Colton incident he didn't feel a shred of guilt or anger. He felt nothing, and maybe that was for the best.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Erik said closing his notebook. Residents shuffled out of their chairs and dispersed. Erik stared at Connor who had yet to move, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving him to himself. 

Yesterday was bad, but today was somehow worse? Jared had told the whole school how he beat up Connor because he tried to attack Evan. Of course in his world he would be the hero and Connor the monster.

 _Because you are a monster_ , his brain yelled at him.

The bruises on both kids face only helped Jared create his tale. Connor was threatening Evan and Jared saw it and swooped in to save him. He got some nice punches in while Connor got a “lucky” hit on his jaw. Jared was the center of attention. In the one class Connor reluctantly shared with him, he had walked in to Jared sitting on top of the desk sharing the dramatic story. Everyone glared at Connor when he walked in, whispering or tossing insults. 

And to make matters worse Evan wasn't at school today. Jared used it to say he was scared Murphy would try to kill him today so he stayed home. Jared had everyone in the palm of his hand as he spewed whatever nonsense he had to to make Connor look like the bad guy. 

Zoe had found him at lunch. Cynthia had told her all about Colton and what happened, but it still didn't help free him from Jared's accusations. She yelled at him because Connor was a loose cannon, a volcano ready to erupt and there wasn't a doubt in her mind that her brother didn't do what Jared had said. 

“I almost liked you better when you were high! At least then I didn’t have to worry about you hurting anybody but yourself!” she screamed before storming off. 

For the first time since entering the program he questioned his sobriety. Drugs and alcohol had turned him into something he didn't want to be, and he was trying, really trying, to be better, but Zoe's words cut deep. Maybe he had always been a monster. Maybe he couldn't blame his behavior and outburst on being high or drunk. Maybe he was simply just fucked up and, sober or not, he would never be that person he was trying so hard to be. 

Stumbling back to school, the guidance counselor questioned him about his absence from yesterday. After running at lunch he missed his last two classes, not that he cared, but he was already treading on thin ice after getting caught, and he had promised originally to follow every rule in the book till he finished the program. He told the lady about Colton, making up some shit about how he woke up, and he left school immediately. She cut him some slack, telling him she’d let this one slide, but he wouldn’t be getting anymore freebies. If he fucked up again he would be expelled. 

And now he was here, sitting in the plastic chairs of the now empty group circle. His head hurt from overthinking everything, and he just wanted everything to stop being so damn complicated and messy all the time. He had never tackled his problems head on like this. He was always high, ignoring the pain and severity of everything in his life. Shockingly this was the longest he had ever been clean. Two weeks still felt like an accomplishment, especially when the urge to use had been so strong lately. With all the Colton and Evan drama happening he couldn't help but feel like resorting back to his old habits of numbing the pain by getting high. Of course he knew he couldn't, but he couldn't help but still feel drawn to the drug. 

He knocked on Erik’s office door even though it was already open. He didn’t want to interrupt or intrude. Erik ushered him in, motioning for him to take a seat. 

“What’s going on?” He asked once Connor was seated.

“Have you heard anything about Colton?”

“No,” he sighed moving to walk around his desk. “Connor I know this is tough on you. It’s tough on everyone in the house, but you’re battling through it. What I saw today was real progress. It was your first time ever sharing something with the group and that’s -that’s a big deal,” He paused shuffling through his desk drawer. “So, I’m giving you this back,” He handed Connor back his phone the hunk of metal feeling like a brick to him. “It was long overdue, but you earned it.”

“Thanks.”

Connor went back to being reserved not telling Erik more about what he shared at group, and they wrapped up their short conversation when Jazz barged in going on about his own problems. He trudged upstairs pulling out his phone he plugged it in the wall, watching the battery icon fill the black screen. Once it finally had enough power to turn on, Connor unlocked it, having to turn off the sound from the messages pouring in. No one ever texted him, but take away his phone for two weeks and apparently everyone wants to talk to him. Messages from his mom, Zoe, and Evan filled his phone. 

His mom would send him messages asking him how he was, but it was always followed up with ‘I forgot you don’t have your phone’ messages. There was ones from Zoe asking him where he was the day he took school off to watch movies with Colton. There were a bunch from Evan, mostly because Hansen texted like he talked. He rambled and sent multiple messages. They were various going back to the first day he entered Pleasant Springs. He read through them all, laughing at Evan being Evan and occasionally feeling the sharp pain of guilt. 

Evan was beyond pissed at him, but Connor missed the kid. The haven't hung out since Connor entered the house, and all he seemed to do was make Evan worry and angry. 

_> >Connor:  
hey._

He deleted it almost as soon as he typed it. What if Evan didn't want to hear from him. He couldn't possibly explain what was going on without telling Evan the truth, and now he had wormed himself so far in his web of lies would Evan even believe anything was the truth? Knowing Evan hated him made his stomach twist, and he couldn't just sit and pretend like it wasn't eating him alive. Plus maybe hey wasn't the best way to start after weeks of silence, but he couldn't get the words out.

_> >Connor:  
I'm sorry._

Connor waited anxiously for a response, and after an hour of silence he figured he wasn't going to get one. Sighing he placed his phone on the side table, burying himself under his sheets.

Had he really lost Hansen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tree bros is coming and I apologize for the lack of Evan it's all part of the story so just uhhhh be patient with me, thanks.
> 
> thanks for the hits and kudos I appreciate you all ♡♡
> 
> (also can we talk about Taylor as Evan??? he looked absolutely adorable dressed up and I can only imagine how great he was)
> 
> ((with that being said I'm going to cry when Noah leaves :'( he's such a smol bean and i love him so much. I've only seen the show once and he was on as Evan and I fell in love with him. my heart is going to hurt so much in a week. rip))


	15. Hard Times

“Have you texted him back?”

Evan shook his head, “No. I don't know what to say.”

“Nothing,” Jared said taking a bit of his sandwich. The cafe was always too loud and it made a chill run down his spine. He knew no one, but Jared was paying him any attention but that didn't stop him from feeling like eyes were burning in the back of his neck and all the laughter was directed towards him. 

He knew he was being passive aggressive by ignoring Connor for the past two days, but he also couldn't help the nagging feeling that giving Connor the silent treatment wasn't a good solution. He kept thinking what if he did something? It wouldn't be the first time he took out his frustrations with unhealthy coping mechanism. 

Sure Connor was a bit of an asshole. He punched Jared, and Evan wasn't just going to forgive him with open arms for hurting someone he was closed to but it wasn't like he wanted him to suffer or be in pain. Despite everything he still cared about Connor. 

“I can't just leave him hanging.”

“Sure you can,” Jared replied. “He has been ignoring you for the past two weeks. It's only fair he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

“I know, I know,” Evan said passively. “I'm just really worried y’know.. something is going to happen to him and it's going to be my fault because I wasn't there,” he paused noticing Jared's questioning look. “I really don't know what to do about him anymore. It's not like I can just turn my back on him and go ‘hey good luck on your own. He's helped me and I know he's done horrible things, but… he's still my best friend.” 

The look on Jared’s face made him feel worse. He knew he was supposed to be angry, supposed to want to cut all ties with Connor and remove the toxicity that followed the stoner boy, but he couldn't and that made him feel guilty. Because he couldn't, no matter how fucked up their friendship had gotten or how wrong it could continue to be if it continued, it didn't change the fact that Evan cared a ridiculous amount for Connor. 

He kept twisting his cast, trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach. He couldn't erase all the memories, good or bad, that he spent with Connor over the past couple months, and even if he wanted to it was difficult to do so with reminders sprawled across the hunk of plaster on his forearm; haunting him. He knew if he tried hard enough he could wash away all the memories and soon enough the cast would come off and he wouldn't have to be reminded of them every time he looked down at his arm, but he didn't want. If he could he'd let that cast stay on his arm so that he'd never forget because while some of those memories are painful most of them were what made him okay. 

Jared couldn't help but scoff as he stood to toss away his trash, “Whatever. Next time he hurts you or causes you to have a panic attack don't come crawling to me,” storming off and out of the cafeteria leaving Evan stunned. 

He didn't have much time to collect his thoughts or process the cruel words Jared had tossed at him before the bell rang dismissing him from the lunch period. As much as he wanted to run after Jared he knew that no matter what he said or did to try and convince Jared Connor isn't a bad guy there wasn't a point. Jared would never see Connor as Evan saw him. 

Weakly he headed off to class, ignoring the twisting of his stomach. 

Connor hadn't been to school in two days. Evan ignoring him had left a sour taste in his mouth and all he wanted to do was lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. He spent majority of the two days either moping around the house or in the hospital with Colton. It had been 5 days since the incident in the filthy motel room yet there hadn't been any change in Colton's conditions. Everyone kept saying he should have woken up by now, that the surgery had gone fine and there wasn't any damaged that would leave him unresponsive for this long, but they insisted that no matter how strange it was he was fine. They had taking him off the ventilator and he was breathing in his own now. The lack of tubing down his friends throat made him feel slightly better. 

Colton was lying just as Connor had seen him yesterday. Originally when he had brought him here he looked pale as a ghost but now color was coming back to his skin. His hair was tousled, matted to his forehead from sweat and not being washed in a few days. He fell into the chair next to the bedside, feeling everything drain from him as he did so. He was beyond exhausted from the lack of sleep and he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown all day now. What better way to do that than in a hospital room with your unconscious friend a few feet away. At least he'd have privacy and no one would judge him if they saw him balling next to some kid in the ICU. 

He didn't expect the second he crashed in the chair the floodgates would open, but apparently he wasn't as strong as he thought he was. A burn rose in the back of his throat as a sob escaped his lips and hands shook as he tried to muffle it. 

_Weak._

He just had to go a fuck up everything in his life. His family. His friends. Everything. And the only logical conclusion he came up with for doing so was his anger.

He hated how his anger always seemed to pop up at the worst possible moments, feeling like he had to scream or yell or punch someone to keep his blood from boiling right out of his veins. He wished, at least, during his outburst it would be more of a fugue state where'd he come out of it unsure of what he said or did, confused and disoriented because at least then he could blame it on something other than himself. It might have helped ease the guilt every time he looked back and realized how petty and overly dramatic he was about the smallest things. He hated knowing what he was doing, what he was saying, but not being able to control himself enough to stop. 

He hated how that anger drove people away, how it had wedged a very far gap between him and his family. He couldn't even spend a full minute around Zoe without spilling some sort of insult or feeling his blood pressure spike. And he couldn't even be in the same room as Larry without going totally batshit out of his mind. He hated the nervous glances or fearful looks his parents would cast at him whenever he would have an ‘episode’, and the way everyone treated him either like he was the most fragile person on the planet or the biggest monster. He just wanted someone to treat him like he wasn't a fuck up. 

That someone had been Evan, his brain reminded him causing another gross sob to fall. 

Every memory, every smile he had ever shared with Evan was replaced with the look he received after punching Jared. It hurt, twisting and pulling on his heart, knowing the only person who truly gave a damn about him saw him just as everyone else did. 

His jaw clenched and hands balled the material of his jeans, gasping as he tried to rid himself of the image and the thought of Hansen in general. For the longest time he knew Evan would leave him, but every time Evan would tell him he wasn't going anywhere or that he was here to help he believed him. He wanted to believe that no matter how fucked he was someone could see through that. 

“I'm an idiot,” he muttered to himself, voice shaky and frail. 

He hadn't meant for any of this to happen. He hadn't even meant to drag Hansen into his shit it was just one day he was there and Connor didn't feel so alone. He craved that feeling and kept coming back to Evan until eventually by some struck of luck Evan considered him a friend. Connor knew he had no right to pin everything on Evan especially knowing the other was struggling with his own health as much as he was, but he couldn't help. Evan became his anchor and for once he had something to believe in.

With every smile and laugh, every ‘just checking in’ text and poorly crafted high five ritual he felt like he wasn't alone. Someone was rooting for him. but stupidly he took all that support and consider and lit it with kerosene. 

Evan hated him. 

And Connor hated himself for letting him get so attached to Evan that he’d hurt him in the end.

He weeped, tears falling much quicker than he would like and sobs that left him gasping for air. He couldn't help the noisy convulsive sobs that left his body shaking, drowning out the soft groan from the other boy in the room.

“Connor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh also thanks for the 1k hits I never thought anyone would ever read this god awful story so thank you haha


	16. Okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Colton wakes up and Connor blames himself

There was so many things he wanted to say, yet he couldn’t do anything but stare, frozen within himself, paralyzed with too many emotions coursing through him. 

After five hellish days Colton was awake. He was alive and conscious and actually speaking to him. It felt strange, yet surreal. He had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for the day Colton opened his eyes so this heap of guilt built in his stomach lining would disappear, but now, looking into Colton’s light blue eyes it only felt stronger. He had pictured this- and the worser alternative- a hundred time and never did he think Colton would wake up when he was in the midst of a messy, gross, pity-party for himself. Tears were still damp on his cheeks, but they had stopped falling from the moment Colton uttered his name. His brain was blank, staring like a deer in the headlights at the boy lying in the hospital bed. 

His heart pounded in his chest and his stomach twisted as a mix of panic and embarrassment washed over him. 

He knew he should be happy. Hell, he should be thrilled that Colton finally woke up but he couldn't bring himself to that. The nagging feeling of guilt told him that Colton was going to hate him. He was going to blame him the same way he blamed himself for all of it. Selfishly Connor wasn't ready for that. He didn't want to lose yet another person from his life. 

“You okay?” Colton asked shifting in the bed, letting out a small groan as he did so. 

The feeling of lightheadedness washed over him, reminding Connor he had actually forgotten to breathe. He let out a shaky breath, “I should be asking you that.”

Colton laughed, slight discomfort on his face. “The scar is totally worth the pain.” 

Smiling weakly he rubbed his face ridding himself of the tear stains on his cheeks. Unwanted thoughts and dreadful voices filled his head, and he couldn't help but think Colton wouldn't be in pain if he didn't freeze up when Colton needed him. 

The room fell silent. It wasn't uncomfortable but it was painful and suffocating to Connor, feeling the guilt build up in his throat. And it didn't help that Colton's eyes were on him, staring at him as he tried to shove that guilt down. He bit his lip hard, taste of metallic blood in his mouth. 

He shouldn't have let anger blind him from Ty’s general concern. In the moment he had been too pissed off to even tell Ty off because what right did he have to tell Connor who he should and shouldn't hang out with? He should have listened. _Colton's not exactly a saint, I mean none of us are, but he was in so real deep shit._ He should have let Ty explain more instead of storming off to take a shower. He knew now that deep shit Ty referred to was Demo and his hooligans, but maybe, maybe if he just heard Ty out then he wouldn't have been so willing to help Colton. 

He should have said no when Colton approached him in the hallway. He shouldn't have felt sorry at the sheer panicked look on his face. He should have pushed past him and ignored him, curled up in bed and tried to create a plan on how to get Hansen to stop being so skeptical of him. He shouldn't have agreed. He shouldn't have snuck out without telling anyone. 

He should have pressed hard for answers, both before and after he got in the car. He barely knew Colton but he had given it zero thought when Colton approached him with a favor. He simply saw how distraught Colton was and his heart twisted, pitying him, and mouth moving before he could even second guess what he was doing. He should have pried the truth from Colton on their drive to the creepy motel. If he had he would have told Colton to pull over or turn around, not allow him to drive straight into an ambush. 

He shouldn't have followed him up the creeky motel steps. He should have took one look at the rundown exterior and knew something shady was about to happen. He should have argued, told Colton there was no way in hell he was going inside there and made him drive back home. He should have known something was up after seeing tattoo. He should have known nothing good would come from this simply by the way Colton's whole demeanor changed in the presence of these guys. Colton who was normally an easy-going kind of guy was suddenly an icy, cold-hearted guy and it somewhat scared Connor knowing there was this whole other side to Colton. A side that he was basically a street thug, one wrong look and I'll punch you in the throat kind of guy. He shouldn't have judged him, of course Colton would have a pass, one that he might not have been proud of but he couldn't change, but he had a hard time wrapping his head around the shadier side of Colton. 

He should have called it when he saw the drugs or when things started getting to heated, when the yelling and air turned tense he should have pulled Colton aside. Should have told him to calm down knowing that anger that was visible about to burst within him would only get him in more trouble. Should have told him to leave, to run and never come back here ever again, but he couldn't get his feet to move or his mouth to work. He simply froze watching as Colton and Demo argued with each other. 

He should have watched his back. He should have been more alert by his surroundings and never let tattoo get the opportunity to hold him back. He should have fought back hard, freed himself from tattoos grasp before Colton had the chance to destroy the line between violence and non. 

He should have ran to Colton's aid when he pushed tattoo off of him. He saw how it was two against one, but again his legs locked in place and didn't get the chance to move before he was tackled again. He should have had the courage, shouldn't have taken a second thought about it and helped Colton. At least then he would have a clue about what happened after Colton had sent blondey reeling into the wall. He shouldn't have ever let it come down to Colton getting stabbed, he should have been there but he was too busy getting clocked in the mouth to even know one of them was armed. 

He should have been smarter, stronger, faster. There was so much he could have changed, and If he had surely Colton wouldn't be here and the guilt wouldn't be consuming him like it was. If he had just changed one measly thing, if he had simply just told Colton he was tired and didn't go then none of this would have happened. Or if he had run to Colton, distracted Demo enough for the fight to be even until tattoo got up then he could have stopped the blade from being thrusted into Colton's abdomen. 

Of course the logical part of his brain that told him if he did go help it could have been him or even both of them getting stabbed was silenced by his ongoing guilt. 

He couldn't help but blame himself because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Colton was recovering in the hospital while he walked away with a couple bruises. Sure it wasn't his battle and he had no idea why there was so much tension between them, but it didn't matter to him. Deep down he felt like he deserved it too because his willingness to accompany Colton had gotten them into this situation. It was almost as if Colton loaded the gun and Connor had fired it without a care for consequences. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when a nurse walked into the room. She paused, surprised to see Colton awake, “Look who's awake!” she smiled walking towards the bed. “How are you feeling?” 

“I'm okay,” Colton said. “Kinda hurts when I sit up.”

The nurse nodded, “Yeah, just be careful we wouldn't want you pulling your stitches.” 

She finished doing her nursely things telling Colton how glad she was he was awake. It only made Connor feel worse because he was still struggling to be happy Colton was awake while a complete stranger had no problem with it. Once she walked out the room fell to a brief silence once again, the beeping of the EGK filling it before Colton spoke. 

“I think that nurse has the hots for me.” Connor shot him a glare as if to say _‘really?’_ without actually saying it. Colton could read the room. Obviously Connor was upset about something, that was clear when Connor had woken up and saw the tears falling down his face and heard the harsh sob echoing in the room. He thought avoiding the talk he knew they needed to have was best for both of them and instead tried to lighten the mood with some playful conversation. 

“Oh c’mon she was totally eye-fucking me! I wouldn't be surprised if she peeked under my gown--”

“God you sound like Jared,” Connor groaned pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. The last thing the world needed was two Jared Kleinman.

“Who is Jared?” Colton asked.

Connor sighed, “Some idiot from school.”

“Is he friends with that Hansen kid you never shut up about?” Connor nodded. 

“You ever fix things between you two? Make up and make out yet?” 

“I actually think I made it worse,” Connor let out a nervous chuckle as he ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't want to talk about Evan. Not now at least. Emotionally he just poured everything he had over Evan and he didn't trust himself not to break down or get pissed off again. 

But Colton didn't stop, curious about what happened when he was unconscious, “Uh oh. What happened?” 

“I might have punched Jared in front of him.” 

Colton snorted, “nice going idiot.” 

He tried to not let it hurt him. He knew Colton was only poking fun at him and didn't mean anything venomous by it, but idiot rang loudly in his ear. 

“So I gotta ask,” Colton started. “How pissed is Erik?”

When Connor had first called Erik to tell him Colton was in the hospital he sounded concerned. When he actually arrived at the hospital and saw the bruises on Connor's face he looked disappointed, but hadn't said anything to him about it. He kept the conversation about Colton, about how he is and his surgery progress. He briefly asked Connor what had happened in which Connor had told a small white lie of they were mugged and it went wrong when Colton tried to fight back. It would probably get him in trouble, but he wanted Colton to tell Erik for himself because he didn't have all the answers yet to be grilled by Erik. 

He stopped by a few times to see Colton but nothing ever gave off that he was angry at either of the boys. Even at the house he treated Connor like he always had, maybe a bit more delicately knowing how hard this whole thing had been on him, but never had he snapped or blamed Connor for putting them both at risk. In fact they rarely talked about what happened just how Colton was, and that disappointment would always flash upon his face when they did.

“I wouldn't say pissed he's more uh… disappointed?” Connor said. “Speaking of I should probably call him and let him know you're awake.” Erik would be mad if Connor didn't tell him Colton had woke up and since they were already in deep water he didn't want to add anymore to it.

“Oof. Tell me if he decides to come by I’ll ask the nurse if she can increase my pain medications so I pass out before he shows up and starts yelling.” 

Connor stood weakly dragging himself out of the room. He walked the hall a bit as he talked to Erik. The counselor sounded relieved, excited that Colton was awake and told him he'd stop by in a bit. After hanging up Connor felt the strong urge to run. Or throw up.

He didn't want to go back in the room, he didn't want to see Colton in the stupid bed in his stupid hospital gown knowing that it was partly his fault he was there. He couldn't get past the guilt. He couldn't forgive himself. And yeah, yeah maybe he was overreacting. Maybe blaming himself was stupid because they was no way he would have known things would have happened and ended like they did but he couldn't see past that. He wanted to believe, no, he knew there was some way to avoid all this and he blamed himself for not seeing it when everything was going down. 

He needed just a little bit of time to flush this out. He couldn't face Colton when he felt like this so instead he walked the hall. The air in the hallway seemed a little more breathable and a little less suffocating like inside the room had. He stopped at the vending machine to get gummy bears for Colton and a water bottle for himself, tempted to run to the gas station down the road because he really wanted an energy drink and to get out of the hospital for a little bit, but he shoved some bills into the machine and grabbed his items as they fell. Once his brain had somewhat calmed and the feeling of him going to be sick had passed he forced himself to walk back to the room hesitating before sliding the door open. He could do this, he just had to get the image of Colton holding his side, blood leaking from between his fingers, out of his head. 

He sucked in a breath, “Hey.” 

Colton's eyes flickered up to meet his, “So, do I have to ask the nurse to put me in a medically induced coma?” 

“You might,” he handed the bag of gummy bears to Colton. “here.”

“So he's coming?” Connor nodded sitting in his usual chair. “Great.”

Colton ate his gummy bears, eating the head first for a “less painful death” as he would like to say, while Connor peeled and reapplied the label around his water bottle over and over and over again till there was a knock against the door and Erik was stepping through. 

He gave them both a small smile, “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got stabbed,” Colton jokes. 

“Well I'm glad to see you're awake I was afraid if you didn't wake up soon this one,” he paused pointing to Connor. “-would end up dropping out of school.”

Colton laughed, hand grasping his side, “is that so?”

“I think he's been here every single day since. Sure put up a hell of a fight when his mother and I tried to get him to go to school on Monday.”

“Aw Connie! That's so sweet!”

He groaned feeling his face grow hot, “shut up.” 

The two laughed before the conversation turned to Erik telling Colton what he missed house drama wise. Colton was tentatively listening, laughter would burst between the two almost regularly over. 

“Wait so he put laundry soap in the dishwasher?” Colton asked.

Erik nodded, “I came home and there was just bubbles everywhere. Apparently instead of cleaning it up they thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of bubble battle.”

“Please tell me you put them on bathroom duty.”

“Two weeks. And I made them clean all the bubbles up.”

Connor sat watching the two laugh and smile the whole time. He didn't really pay much attention to what was being said, but with every burst of laughter he felt his guilt subside slightly. Colton was okay. Colton was okay and that made him feel slightly better. They talked for about an hour before Colton told him that he was afraid he was going to pop his stitches if he laughed anymore. The whole time Erik never once asked them what happened, didn't even really bring up the incident at all which they were both thankful about. Colton was feeling sleepy and Connor had enough emotional torment to last him a while. 

“Okay we'll get out of your hair while you sleep,” Erik said. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Colton hummed his eyes falling closed. 

Connor followed Erik out of the room, stopped right before he actually exited by Colton calling his name. 

“Thanks for staying with me,” he said.

Connor smiled although he wanted to say he shouldn't be thanking him at all, “’night Colt,” he said softly before slipping out of the room. 

The hour ride home felt like minutes as he sat, his head resting against the window watching the building and cars blurr as they passed. The radio was silently playing and neither of them spoke. Feeling content and able to breath again, corner of his lips still upright. 

Colton was awake and okay and Connor was happy for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually feel really bad about this whole story. It's supposed to be tree bros and it's mostly all Colton and Connor. I'm sorry I suck.. (I actually didn't have any of this planned it just uh happened and now I'm stuck.) 
> 
> but thank you for reading and for the kudos I appreciate y'all.


	17. Pop Punk Pizza Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Colton gets released from the hospital + a little Ev POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup it's me back again with yet another update of filler garbage. 
> 
> I realized I couldn't progress the story till Colton got his booty out of the hospital so yay no more hospital scenes!

The doors to the hospital slide open as Evan approached them. His shoes squeaked against the white tile floor. It had been raining non-stop for the past two days, and even though it was just a short walk from the car to inside the hospital Evan was damp, small droplets of water falling from the strand of his hair that had gotten wet. 

Heidi was working a double today and Evan needed an excuse to get out the house. He couldn't stand another second of being alone trying to piece together the event that lead to his current mess of a life. His brain had been filled with Connor. The constant thoughts seemed to revolve solely around the long-haired teen. 

Connor was his best friend, the one person who he didn't feel entirely on edge around, and it hurt like hell knowing Connor had left him because someone new came into his life. It made him nauseous. 

Jared didn't really make the situation any better. He was still somewhat pissed at Evan for choosing Connor's side despite him actually punching the other, but he had pushed it aside when he saw how distraught Evan was about everything. Jared pitied him which was.. fine. it was. Evan was used to people pitying him by now. 

_“He's probably fucking him right now,” Jared said popping a fry into his mouth._

_“Jared--”_

_“It's a joke Ev. Lighten up.”_

Evan wasn't sure if Jared was still trying to show him how much of an asshole Connor was or if in some sick way he was trying to make him feel better and failing miserably, but he was thankful. sort of. 

Having Jared was better than having no one no matter how much Jared teased him and pressed about how they were only family-friends. 

He sighed as he turned down the hallway, the syfoam box still warm in his hands. His mother would probably be too busy to actually eat anything that wasn't from a vending machine so he decided, for once, he'd be a good son and bring his mother food at work. It was a nice break from barricading himself in his room. His anxiety was skyrocketing with every second he spent locked away and even though ordering food was an absolute nightmare for him he was somewhat glad his thoughts were off of Connor and on about how stupid he sounded when he order or if he had enough money to actually pay. Sure it was ideal but at this point he'd take anything than Connor freaking Murphy abandoning him floating around his head. 

His mother was flipping through a file, pen scribbling on some of the pages when he walked up to him. Her hair is in a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes from both stress and exhaustion. She looks up, smiling when she sees her son in front of her.

“Evan honey,” she moves from where she was behind the desk to give Evan a side hug of sorts. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?” 

Evan nodded offering a small smile to ease his mother's worry, “Yeah I uh-I brought you food.” shoving the container into her hands. 

She beamed, “Thanks Ev.”

“You going to hang out for a little bit? I think I saw Zoe Murphy in here earlier.”

“Zoe?” Heidi nodded. “w-why?”

His mind couldn't help but wonder to the idea that Connor had hurt himself.. again. It would certainly explain why he had been absent for the past two days of school and why Zoe was here. What if Connor had actually hurt himself? What if he had tried to take his own life again? 

Panic and worry built up. He felt short of air. What if it had been his fault? What if by not responding to Connor's message caused him to freak out or something? What if he thought Evan hated him for the whole Jared thing and felt the same way he had on the bridge the one time Evan had found him.

_“They’d all be so much happier without me!” He yelled willing his hands to just let go of the rail but they didn't budge. He couldn't let go for some reason. “All I ever do is ruin people's lives! I don't matter to anyone and-and maybe without me constantly fucking up things they can be happy again.”_

That had been one of the most stressful days of their friendship. He knew Connor had been struggling with his own mental health but Evan never thought the day where he actually had to talk Connor off the ledge would come. He didn't even know what he was saying just hopelessly spewing words out in attempt to get through to Connor. It was the first time he had ever seen Connor so.. human. Every time they had hung out he was always so guarded, always with the same I-could-care-less attitude but that day on the bridge changed everything. He saw the real Connor Murphy. The one who was hurting, screaming into the darkness for help. The one who needed someone to reach out their hand and lead him away from the edge. 

Evan had done that and now he couldn't help but think this time he wasn't there to reach out. 

“She came in with some other girl. Looked around your age. I could check it out if you want?” 

Evan let out a breath hearing his mother words. So Connor wasn't in the hospital. Connor was okay. He shook his head at his mother's offer, giving her some excuse about hanging out with Jared before leaving the hospital. He didn't know why he had thought the hospital would be a good place to run to while trying to avoid his problems. He hated hospitals. 

He dragged his feet back out the door of the hospital after bidding his mom goodbye. Rain still fell, a small drizzle now but still enough to leave him cold and somewhat wet when he reached the car. 

Connor pushed his wet hair out of his face, “This fucking sucks,” he spat as he walked up the steps of the house. 

When they had left the hospital it was only a light rain but once again if became a downpour. He was soaked just from the short walk from car to front door. The weather hadn't let up for the past two days a nonstop shower rained over their town. 

“It's just rain,” Colton said trailing behind him. He had been released from the hospital today and maybe it was just the rain but he didn't seem to thrilled to be back at the house. Maybe because he knew there was going to be a surprise welcome home party, and much like Connor would rather sleep than socialize and eat cake. 

Connor sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Colton and shooting him a look as if to ask if he was ready for this before he twisted the door knob and the door flung open. 

“Surprise!” The residents all yelled when the two boys stepped in. Colton did his best surprise face making Connor snort as he pulled off his wet boot. Colton was immediately whisked away to the party, everyone telling him how great it was to have him back. 

It was great. Colton being back was a good thing. He didn't have to worry about stepping into another hospital for a while hopefully and he'd have someone to watch shitty Kung fu movies with again. He knew it was great that Colton was back, but he certainly didn't feel that way. 

They had yet to actually talk about what happened that night. The days leading up to Colton's release were filled with random banter and Colton passing out on him. He knew it was only a matter of time before it was brought up and inevitable Colton would hate him, but he couldn't bring himself to start the conversation. The guilt was still there pestering him every chance he got and yet he never took any opportunity to reliviate any of it. 

Not in the party mood he went to go upstairs to change until a hand grabbed his wrist, “If I have to suffer so do you.” Colton said pulling him down the one step he had made it up. Connor groaned as he was dragged to the main room where everyone was chatting loudly amongst themselves. 

The party itself wasn't that bad once you got past the part of listening to Jazz dramatically tell the story of how he got arrested for breaking into an amusement park a few years ago. They ended up playing pictionary and even Connor had to admit it was pretty funny when Liv tried to pass off her drawing of what clearly was a thing of fries as a hand. 

“You guys are all idiots,” she said plopping down on the couch with her arms folded across her chest. 

“Connor you gonna play?” Ty asked.

“Sure,” he mumbled pulling the top card from the deck. 

_Knife._

_Wow_ , Connor thought as he read the card, _the universe is a real jokester._

He was tempted to just put the card back and pull another, but Ty was watching him and he didn't want to get accused of cheating. So he got up a drew a knife of the piece of paper in which Colton shot a remark of, “My almost murder weapon!” 

The rest of the night went by smoothly. Everyone was laughing and taking turns drawing whatever they had picked. They shared stories of their rambunctious past and cake was definitely shoved in at least two peoples face. It was a nice change of pace and for once Connor felt happy he was in this program. The residents, everyone here, was all struggling with their own sobriety but they could all come together and have a really fun night. 

It had gotten his mind off the whole incident and his guilt had washed away as he simply allowed himself to enjoy the night. 

“Hey,” Connor said poking Colton's side. “You better not be falling asleep on me.” He had no idea when Colton's head had fallen against his shoulder, but he was aware of it now. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady as he leaned against him. 

“I'm not,” he mumbled. 

“C’mon,” Connor said shifting to move the other off of him. “Let's get you to bed.”

Colton groaned as he followed Connor's lead and pushed himself off the couch. It was close to midnight when they climbed the stairs to go to bed. Colton mumbled a small goodnight to Connor as he pushed open his bedroom door almost instantly falling on his mattress. Connor walked to his room down the hall, changed out of his clothes that were still somewhat wet from the rain, before grabbing his phone off the nightstand where he had left it all day. He pressed the home button bringing the phone to life and reading the one notification bubble on his lockscreen.

_One missed call: Evan Hansen._

_Shit.._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooH did you see I actually added chapter titles! They have nothing to do with the actual chapters I just didn't like the 1.7 style anymore. 
> 
> I have nothing else to put here but thank you for reading   
> ㇏( ෆั ⌣ ෆั )ﾉ


	18. My Oceans Were Lakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which the idiots finally get their crap together... kinda.
> 
> TW:  
> +mention suicide attempt and self-harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half of this is some 2 a.m. fever dream and the other I wrote during my free period so it's messy and probably got a lot wrong with it. I'll probably go back and edit it later when I actually have motivation to do it.

His phone buzzed from its place in the floor lost in the heap of blankets he had kicked off his bed with it. Embarrassingly quick he dove for the device, face dropping in disappointment when he saw Jared's name pop up on it. He didn't even bother reading the message just groaning and tossing himself back of his bed, phone slipping from his hand landing on the mattress next to his head. 

He had convinced himself to call Connor after he returned from the hospital. The thought of Connor potentially harming himself made him sick, and no matter how much he was supposed to be angry at Connor he couldn’t bring himself to. He cared a ridiculous amount for the long-haired teen, enough to overlook the fact that he had spent majority of the month ignoring Evan and even punching Jared. It was probably stupid of him not to but he couldn’t bring himself to hate Connor. He spent most of the night pacing back and forth in his room trying to gain the slightest bit of courage to dial the boys number before he finally pressed the phone icon. 

The ringing drove him insane. It just kept ringing and ringing and ringing and-- maybe it was a good thing Connor didn't pick up. Maybe it was the universe's way of telling him to not be so quick to forgive. Or maybe it was just telling him to piss off because Connor was happy and he would only ruin that.

He wanted Connor in his life. They had been through so much in the couple months of knowing each other and Evan was having a hard time letting that go. He didn't want to. He wanted to keep making memories and sharing stories. He wanted Connor to walk him to class again or pass him ridiculous notes about the teachers outfit in the class they shared. He wanted to hear Connor belt out lyrics to whatever song came on as they drove to wherever, and to look over from the passenger seat and feel his stomach do flip flops as Connor laughed. He wanted Connor to hold his hand as he painted his nails or scribble little alien doodles on the back of his hand. He wanted to watch movies and be annoyed by Connor's awful commentary about how the protagonist is an idiot, or stay up till two in the morning trying to beat the boss stage of whatever game they were playing and end up falling asleep next to him. 

He wanted everything to go back to how it was before.. Whatever had happened. 

But maybe Connor didn't?

Maybe this new kid could give Connor what Evan couldn't: happiness. 

Part of him wished he could go back to the very first time he talked to Connor and run the opposite way, but then his mind went back to the night on the bridge. 

_“I thought you were different Evan!” his screams ripping through the air. “I thought you actually cared!”_

_“I do!” he yelled back. “Connor, I care about you more than I care about myself!”_

_Connor's eyes darted to met Evan's, wide and panicked, “Please Con. Please I-I can't.. I can't lose you.”_

_“Don't pretend like your life wouldn't be better without me,” he snapped._

_“It-it wouldn't! Connor you're my best friend andandand,” oh god.. what do I say? what do I say? I can't just not say anything and let him kill himself. “Do you remember when we first met? I was right where you were… mentally I mean. I-I had a note and everything in my backpack and-and then you came up to me in the computer lab and you signed my cast and you said ‘at least now we can pretend to have friends’,” he paused letting out a shaky breath, closely examining Connor's face for any tells that what he was saying wasn't helping. “I-I went to the park after school and-and I pulled out some pills and I.. I had them in my hand and everything but I couldn't stop hearing your voice in the back of my head saying ‘at least we can pretend’, and I hated you. I hated you after that and I blamed you because I wasn't strong enough to actually kill myself. Every single time things went to shit I would blame you because, hell.. if you didn't show up in the computer lab I would have done it,” he watched as Connor's face scowled, hands gripping the rail tighter. “And yeah, yeah sometimes I think it maybe would have been for the better if I just swallowed them, but then.. then there's times like at the orchard and I'm listening to you hum that one song that’s always in your head as I do my homework or when you're totally kicking my ass in that one zombie game andanad I think how stupid I was..how if I had actually done it then I would have never met you and I would never have known what it's like to have a best friend… You can be a handful Con, yes, you yell and you throw things and get really really angry and sometimes you.. You scare me but you're the only, the only reason I wake up in the morning and am able to tell myself ‘today's going to be a good day’.. so no, no I refuse to let you tell me my life would be better without you.” He didn't even know when he had started yelling but by the time he had finished his throat burned and his hands were bunched at his sides, nails digging into the flesh but not recognizing the pain. Because yes Connor could be difficult at times and impossible to understand, but he truly did make Evan’s life better. He was there, and that’s all Evan ever wanted._

He cared more than he ever thought fathomable about Connor and his life would unmistakably suck if he had to go through it alone. He had meant everything he had said that night, and it was still true. Connor made things seem manageable. Figuratively, he was the light at the end of the tunnel and helped keep Evan afloat. He had became Evan’s anchor and losing him would only mean he would end up crashing against the shore. 

And god was he not ready to go down like the Titanic. 

Time passed just as quickly as his thoughts did, and it was past midnight when his phone buzzed next to his head, bright light illuminating the darkness of his bedroom. He rolled to grab it nearly dropping his phone on his face as he read the notification. 

_One New Message: Connor Murphy._

Quickly he scrambled to a sitting position and unlocked the phone. He opened the messaging app, reading and rereading Connor's message over again. 

_> >Connor:  
Whats up?_

And god it must've taken Connor a solid twenty minutes to actually send a message because he was too busy pacing back and forth in his room debating whether he should call Evan back or just send a message. He didn't want to seem like an idiot, a bigger idiot, if it had been like an accidental pocket dial so he played it somewhat safe after getting his emotions somewhat normal. 

_> >Evan:  
can we tlak _

_> >Evan:  
Imean uf ur not busy_

He waited nervously for a reply. Minutes ticked by as Evan kept staring at the chat waiting for a new message to pop up, and after seven minutes his phone dinged.

_> >Connor:  
I'm sorry_

_> >Connor:  
for the hole Jared thng_

_> >Connor:  
n goin MIA on u_

_> >Connor:  
sorey _

_> >Evan:  
it's okay_

_> >Evan:  
I mean it's not really it hurt a lot with you just ghosting me _

_> >Evan:  
but I forgive you._

_> >Connor:  
u shldnt _

_> >Evan:  
why?_

It took another twelve minutes for Connor to reply. In that time Evan's head ran wild with ideas of horrible things Connor could have done. He didn't understand why Connor felt like Evan shouldn't forgive him. Sure, he punched Jared but he wasn't the one who Connor needed to be apologizing to. 

_> >Connor:  
can we met tmrrw_

_> >Connor:  
theres alot I hve 2 explain_

_> >Evan:  
Sure. Orchard?_

They set the time of the meet up before they exchanged ‘see ya laters’. Evan was excited yet nervous. He didn't know what to expect from tomorrow but he was glad he was finally going to get some answers even if he didn't like them. 

\---

 

Connor almost didn’t show up to met Evan.. again. He hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep, spending most of the night panicking over what and how he was even going to tell Evan the truth, and now he was arguing with Erik because he was convinced just like his parents would be that he was going to meet some dealer and put his sobriety at risk for the umpteenth time. He didn’t blame Erik for having little trust in him; since the beginning Connor hadn’t exactly followed the rules but he at least wished Erik would have seen his progress thus far and let him spend a couple hours with Evan. 

Arguing ate up most of his time and by the time Connor had finally convinced Erik he was not meeting someone for drugs he was already late. It would take at least twenty minutes from the house to get to the orchard meaning he would end up being well over half an hour late from when they agreed. Would Evan wait that long for him? How long did he wait the last time Connor had bailed on him? What if he didn’t wait and Evan thought Connor had purposely blew him off again. He pulled out his phone, and shot Evan a text telling him he would be late. 

Twenty minutes later Connor had found Evan perched against a base of a tree. He sighed a breath of relieve seeing him still there, “Hey,” he said taking a seat next to him on the grass. 

He wasn’t ready for this. He probably wouldn’t ever be, but he owed it to Evan to know the truth.. Or well part of it. 

“Okay so I’m just going to start from the beginning,” he paused looking at Evan who gave him an uneasy look. “So uh you know the guy Jared and you saw me with at the diner that one day?” Evan nodded. “Yeah so I guess we’re friends or whatever but he came up to me a week or so ago asking me for help and stupid me didn’t even question it. Anyways we drive like an hour out of town and pull up to this creepy rundown motel that totally out of a horror film and so I follow him inside where there’s like a couple guys he knows and they start arguing over a marco.. micro fish or something-”

“A microfiche?” Evan asked.

“Yeah that. Anyways one thing led to another and before I even knew it fist were flying and I was being tackled to the ground, hence the bruises,” he said pointing to his face where they now almost faded bruises still were. “But yeah, so I kinda fought with these guy and then Colton--his name is Colton I don’t know if I even told you that--but yeah so Colton is pulling me off this guy and yelling at me to run so I just sprint for it and when we reach the car that’s kind of when I noticed that Colton had this huge gash on his side… and there was so much blood I didn’t know what to do so I just drove him to the hospital and I mean he’s fine now he actually just got released last night, but that’s kind of why I lost it on Jared when he brought Colton up because he hadn’t woken up at that point and-and I was scared, and Jared just didn’t know when to shut his mouth and he started talking about you and I just sort of snapped.” After he had finished telling Evan the story he felt kind of better? There was still this huge secret Connor had left to tell him, but maybe it was for the best if Evan never found out. And he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate with him. He was scared and had almost lost a friend, he didn’t want to lose Evan.

“Ev, I’m so sorry I should have told you I-I was just scared and I thought you hated me.”

Evan had thought of a hundred different reasons why Connor had ignored him, but never did he think it would be because he almost lost someone he cared about, and now seeing the pain and the effects it had on him he only felt worse because while Connor was struggling with the idea his friend might not wake up, Evan was being a baby and thinking Connor had left him because he was easily replaceable. Cautiously he placed his hand on top of Connor’s, the pain in his blue eyes as he met Evan’s broke him. His heart couldn’t help but lurch at the sight. No words seemed to be acceptable and I’m sorry didn’t seem to fit so instead he just squeezed Connor’s hand slightly like his mother did when he had an attack almost like a reminder that he was here. 

And that was how they stayed for a while, together in silence, hands against each other like that was the last strand tethering them from fully breaking down. Things were perfect and with Evan still oblivious to the full truth things between them weren’t nearly close to being normal again, but in that moment; the moment where Connor’s head fell against the sun-kissed boys shoulder and warmth still against his hand, it felt like, eventually, all would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boom. 
> 
> this is 100% rushed because I wanna (hopefully) update a fluffy piece on Valentine's Day so fite meh 
> 
> anyways you can follow me on tumblr @fir-and-citrus if you wanna 
> 
> and! thanks for reading I appreciate yous


	19. Without The Bitter The Sweet Isn't As Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which the boys tackle NYC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Valentine's Day have a fluffy filler chapter.

“Are you telling me you’ve lived in New York your _whole_ life and have never been to the city?”

“That’s--yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

That’s how this whole thing had started. Evan and Connor were somewhat back to normal. They were hanging out in Evan’s room; Evan scribbling down his homework as Connor laid across his bed tossing a ball up repeatedly. It was like when they first hung out and one thing lead to another and without Evan even realizing it they would be swimming in a lake or sprinting out of some convenience store because ‘stealing is a way of survival’. This time it was a random impulsive action of a spontaneous road trip to the city, and Evan had no idea how they went from discussing it to being in the passenger seat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t crave them, despite how anxious they made him. It was exhilarating and intoxicating in the moment and it made his heart race like not in I have to give a speech and I’m going to embarrass myself in front of everyone kind of way, but more of a I can’t believe I’m doing this kind. It was addicting in a way, the rush of adrenaline that is. It made him feel somewhat normal like he was capable of more than having panic attacks. 

So, yeah, there he was balled up in the passenger seat, eye trailing out the window as trees blurred past on his way to New York City with Connor Murphy in the driver seat. If anyone had told Evan a couple months ago he’d be “road-tripping” with Connor Murphy he would probably hyperventilate. He wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be sitting next to Connor while he drove them to the city, and it probably would have been perfect if some ridiculously attractive kid wasn’t in the backseat. 

“I still don’t get why I had to tag along,” Colton groaned.

“Because Er- my parents,” His eyes flicker up to the mirror catching Colton smirking at him as if to say ‘nice save idiot’. “-would never let me go on this trip unless I had someone they trusted with me,” Connor replied flicking on the turn signal. 

“What and they don’t trust Hansen over here?”

“No, they do it’s just after Zoe ratted us out about breaking into some haunted house--”

“Wait you guys broke into a haunted house?”

“It wasn’t really breaking in,” Evan chimed in. “And it wasn’t haunted.”

“The door slammed on its own Evan!”

“Because of the wind!”

The pointless banter continued for a while, back-and-forth, both trying to prove they were right. Evan had basically called him a scaredy-cat before Connor got back on subject, “-but yeah anyways after the _haunted_ house they were afraid I was becoming a bad influence on Evan.”

“I can’t see why they would _ever_ think that,” Colton said sarcastically. 

“He’s really not!”

“I kinda am.”

The rest of the drive was filled with random conversation and Colton grumbling every 20 seconds about how Connor’s music choice was like “nails on a chalkboard bad.” They pulled into a side-dinner a little over halfway because Evan had to piss and frankly driving was exhausting, and after two straight hours Connor needed a break. Or an excuse to leave Colton on the side of the road. He wasn’t quite sure yet.

“So,” Colton started as they sat down in a booth. “You and Hansen?”

Connor raised a brow, questioning what he meant.

“When are you going to grow a pair and ask him out?”

Connor nearly choked on his own spit, “No- I- uh he probably doesn’t even like me like that..” Well it might be true that Connor might have feelings for the sandy blonde he’d never admit it out loud. It was already becoming too hard to convince himself that it was anything else than a crush. Evan was his first friend so naturally he would grow attach to him after spending months together, right? He didn’t even know what his feelings meant. Maybe they weren’t romantic? Maybe it was a different kind of love; not a I want to push you against the wall and make out with you kind of love but more of a I love and appreciate you because you can actually tolerate me so thank you for being my friend kind? He wanted to believe that, but he’d be lying if he didn’t think about Evans lips and his body and what would happen if somehow magically one of these days they were more than friends. And it sucked. It all sucked. Because he was confused and frustrated and he’d probably bet his life that Evan didn’t feel that way about him. And that sucked more.

“Oh c’mon I could feel the sexual tension radiating from the backseat!”

Luckily Evan had come back and slide into the booth next to Connor promptly ending the uncomfortable conversation with Colton. The last thing he needed was for Colton to give him relationship advice. They ordered food and most of the time Evan filled the conversation because Colton had got him going on about trees. And it was adorable. And he didn’t need Colton shooting him knowing glances and smirks throughout the whole meal. 

After they finished eating they hopped back in the car; Colton arguing about wanting to drive but Connor not letting him. It was approaching sunset and they still had another two-ish hours before they reached the city. The ride was probably the silent it ever was, doused in a sleepy silence. Evan was curled up in the passenger seat, eyes closed and breathing steady, and Colton was tapping mindlessly on his phone while Connor drove, fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of the music (Which didn’t suck Colton just had zero taste). 

The sky had long since turned an inky black before the were hopping on the metro that would take them to the heart of the city. It wasn’t too awful, sure it was overly crowded and smelt like a mix of fast food, sweat and fecal matter but again it wasn’t too awful. 

“I’m really glad you brought us four hours to see some bust street,” Colton said, arms crossed over his chest.

Evan’s eyes scanned the screens around them as car horns blared loudly, “Why is it so loud?” He practically had to yell for them to hear over all the chaos.

“It’s New York.”

Evan huffed, “I like our part of New York better.”

After walking around for a bit Colton and Evan both agreed they had had enough of Time Square. It was cool and all, there was lights and buildings and you know.. More lights and buildings, but Colton was getting bored and Evan was tired of getting shoved around by the enormous crowd. Connor had to pull Colton and Evan away from a temporary tattoo stand because while everyone already thought he was a bad influence sending Evan home with a tattoo, real or not, would definitely only prove them right. 

They ended up at a arcade nearby and away from the mayhem on the streets. Neon lights shined doing a poor job of illuminating the room. 

“Seriously? You want to play air hockey?” Connor shrugged

“Why not?”

“We did not have to come out here just for you to play air hockey.”

“Do you want to play or not?”

“I’m going to take a hard pass,” Colton said.

“Ev? You wanna play?” 

“Huh? Yeah sure,” he agreed walking over to the table.

Connor was a brute at air hockey. He hit it hard enough that the puck flew off the table more than once or smacked against Evan’s knuckles with enough power he would be surprised if they were bleeding at this point. Swears and teasing were continuously thrown around and Evan was sure they’d end up being kicked out at some point. 

He didn’t think anyone could be this good at a table sport but everytime he got a good shot Evan would somehow manage to save it and make it look as easy as breathing. Evan quickly learned that Connor was a gloaty winner. He wouldn’t shut up even after the game had ended about him kicking Evan’s ass. 

“Whatever,” Evan huffed when the game finally finished, puck rattling inside his goal making the score ten-nothing. “It’s just air hockey.”

“Spoken like a true sore loser,” Connor hummed, smug look across his face. Evan just grumbled, wandering away from the table to the claw machines. The game itself was rigged, either the items were too heavy to even be carried or the stupid claw would spin when it dropped and land off target. It was stupid and probably the worst way to spend fifteen dollars on some crappy stuffed plushie, but that didn’t stop Connor from shoving money in when he saw a Baymax plushie. 

“You’d be better off just buying on from Walmart than trying to win one,” Colton said approaching them with food in hand. 

“I’ll have you know I’m a master at the claw machine.”

“I feel like this is going to turn into that Spongebob episode..”

“Be the claw,” Connor mocked as the game started up.

“I bet you ten bucks you’re not going to get it.”

“Why are you so negative all the time?” Connor asked moving the joystick over the plushie.

“Because I have to put up with you.”

Evan wondered to a nearby bench by the claw machine watching the two bicker back and forth. He couldn’t help but notice how happy Connor looked even when Colton was clearly pissing him off, the way his eyes lit up and how he bit the inside of his cheek to try and hide his smile. It kind of made Evan feel like a third wheel. Connor had told him they were nothing more than friends, but the way they interacted with each other the whole day made him second guess that. They argued and bickered constantly but they always somehow managed to burst out in laughter after a while at how stupid the whole situation it was. And then there was the whole diner incident. He had come back with Colton leaning over the table slightly and a blushing Connor. He had never seen Connor like that and of course it made him jealous that someone else could make him all sheepish and tongue-tied. There were times where Colton would be too close to Connor, like on the metro, or where he would whisper something to Connor and he would either scoff or laugh that would cause his jealousy to swell. 

It had kind of put a damper on this whole trip. He couldn’t get out of his head that Connor was happier with Colton. That he shouldn’t even be here, not because his mother would flip when she found out, but because he felt invisible or he felt like he had to battle for Connor’s attention. And it sucked. 

“You okay?” Connor asked taking a seat next to Evan on the bench empty handed as Colton took over on the claw.

Evan nodded, “Yeah sorry j-just crowds still make me nervous.”

“Sorry I should have known.”

“No it’s okay I-uh- this.. I had fun thank you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Time passed and eventually they all got bored of the arcade and decided they should do one last thing before they start their travels back home. After mindlessly wondering the streets of New York they found themselves on a pier looking out across the Hudson River. And sure it was just lights from the buildings glistening off the water banks but it was truly something special. It was breathtaking and Evan stared across in awe, light reflecting in his eyes. 

And just like that all his worries vanished and he wasn’t focused on the repercussion of what will happen when he got home or Connor’s and Colton’s relationship. He didn’t think about how he might have messed things up with Jared or stupid college essays. His mind was empty, paralyzed by the beauty surrounding him as he tried to capture it all. Because while Time Square wasn’t really his cup of tea this definitely made the trip worth it.

While Evan couldn’t take his eyes off the river, Connor couldn’t take his off of the smile on his best friends face. Evan was adorable without him even realizing it. How some hallowed out land filled with water seemed enchanting to him. He had to force himself not to pull out his phone and take a photo of a genuinely happy Evan Hansen so he could always remember it. He probably looked like a stalker staring at Evan, memorized by the way his eyes gleamed. It was mid-November and the air by the river was chillier than in the city causing Evan to shiver a bit. His light jacket wasn’t much of a help against the weather and Connor picked up on it.

“You cold?” He asked.

“Yeah… I mean I’m fine I--” Connor had already shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around the other boys shoulder before he could even argue. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled pulling the coat closer to him. It smelled like warm vanilla, a signature Connor Murphy scent, and left him slightly blushing over it. Colton ended up nugging Connor after a while giving him a smug knowing grin before making a whip crack sound. Connor shot him a death glare before focusing back, or well for the first time on the water. 

Colton laughed strolling over and was now standing on the railing of the pier facing the water, arms reached out at his sides, “I’m flying Jack!” he yelled voice an octave higher trying to impressionate Rose. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Connor asked.

“Come Josephine in my flying machine, going up, she goes up, up she goes!” Colton sang as Evan and Connor just exchanged questioning glances. 

He hopped off the railing spinning back to them, “What? You guys don’t know the Titanic?”

“No just didn’t think you were such a nerd.” Colton flipped him off.

After ten minutes of braving the cold they decided to head back. It was close to midnight by now and Colton finally got his wish of driving because walking around all night was exhausting. Connor sat shotgun while Evan turned the backseat into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly. 

Colton had the radio low, faint music from its speaker and the hum of the engine were the only sounds during the ride. It was calming and relaxing, and before he knew it he was being woken up with a jolt and Colton’s elbow digging into his side. He sat up, head spinning in brief confusion before he remembered the night in the city. 

“Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty,” Colton said. “You ready to sneak in?” 

It was still dark out, the clock reading _04:56._ He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Where’s Evan?” He asked turning to see the backseat empty.

“Dropped him off at home. Now c’mon we can still pull this off if we get in without anyone seeing us.”

Connor shuffled out of the car and followed Colton as he climbed the side of the house. “I’m not going to ask how many times you’ve done this,” Connor said grabbing hold of the tree branch. He climbed the tree till he was at window level, following Colton lead as he climbed through the window. 

“Tada!” Colton said throwing his hands up as Connor’s feet landed on the floor of Colton’s room. Luckily he was one of the few he didn’t have to share a room or else his mate probably would have woken up by the two of them entering. 

Connor headed back to his room as silently as he possibly could. Ty was a heavy sleeper from what he had learned and didn’t as much as move when Connor slowly shut the door. He changed, phone buzzing as he did so. He cursed and scrambled to get it before it could wake up Ty.

_> >Colton:_  
Thought you might want this.  
Image.jpg 

Attached was a photo of Connor staring at Evan, smiling on the pier. He quickly shot a text back.

_> >Connor:  
I fuckin hate u_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay listen to me i know some of you are going to be like "Evan would N E V ER do this *angry face*" and I'm just going to remind you that no one thought he would create a whole world of lies about Connor dying and abandon all his friend(s) and family because of it sooo  
> *sips tea*
> 
>  
> 
> anywayyys I hope you liked this chapter? idk I kind of rushed it because I wanted to get it out today.
> 
> follow me on tumblr @fir-and-citrus (if you wanna) 
> 
> I hope you all have a good Valentine's Day even if you don't have someone special to spend it with (like me) ♡♡


	20. You Don't Like The Prison I Built You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Connor goes o f f  
> or  
> the one in which Connor returns home and things get spicy.

Somehow during everything Connor’s life had fallen into a routine. He liked having a routine. It meant nothing unexpected could show up and ruin his day or, well, life. Day to day it was the same; wake up, school, “do homework” at Evan’s before he had to scramble back to the house for group, followed by dinner-which he never really ate-, then his one-on-ones where he would be closed off and annoying to the point where Erik just called it because any and all progress seemed to be on hold because once again Connor was back to being reserved and quiet, he would join Colton on bathroom duties since their little road trip to NYC had resulted in two weeks of clean up duty and “their final warning”. It was all straightforward, and Connor liked waking up knowing exactly what he was doing, kinda. 

All days weren't the same, but they all tend to stick to the same routine. And sometimes they were completely fucked. 

It was days like today where something threw a wrench in his whole routine that made him crazy. Having a routine was simple, but one small monumental thing could throw it off and wreck all the progress he's somewhat been making. It felt like he had more in control of his life when things stayed on track, and nothing interfered, but now here he was sitting in the place where all of this started.

“Honey it’s so great to have you home!” Cynthia yelled wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t make any movement to return in instead arms hung at his side as his face twisted in disgust. Physical contact wasn’t something he was good at. Unless it involved his fist connecting with someone else’s face. Or Evan. God he was a completely different person around Evan. 

Cynthia had been trying to get him home since he started rehab, but every time Connor would either ignore her messages and calls. Whenever she sent Zoe to do her dirty work it would always end up in a fight over something before Zoe would spit some foul word about how he’s an asshole or something and storm off. 

He didn’t want to go back. Mostly because of his family and just how painfully awful dinner with the Murphy’s is, but also because he didn’t trust himself. He was told Cynthia had cleaned out his room after he was admitted, but the chances of her finding everything were slim. Connor had gotten used to his mother randomly cleaning his room and throwing his shit out so he had to get creative with his hiding places. 

While he was told it only takes 21 days to kick a habit, addiction is a whole different story. And there was no telling what he would do after yet another screaming match with Larry. With the temptation to relapse and means to do so he wasn’t sure he could trust himself fully to come back to the house sober.

_“Temptation is going to follow you everywhere you go,” Erik said the previous night during their one-on-ones. He, along with Cynthia, had been trying to get him to take the trip home. He thought it would be an important step in the right direction for his recovery. “But how you deal with that temptation, whether you give in or not, is going to show where you are in terms of your sobriety.”_

_“You see in here you're protected from all of that. All temptation is removed from the house, but out there in the real world is when sobriety is at risk.”_

_“And I've already put my sobriety at risk countless times yet I'm still clean,” Connor huffed._

_“True, but--”_

_“but you still think I should go?”_

_“Yes,” Connor rolled his eyes. Erik had no idea what it was like at his house, or if it would be a step in the right direction. For him it was far from a ‘recovery’ and more of a punishment. “Your family just wants to support you--”_

_“That would be a first.”_

_“Connor you might not see it but they do care about you, and addiction is not something you can overcome on your own. You're going to face obstacles, and temptations, and no matter how strong you think you are you're going to need supportive people around you.”_

So here he was. Not because he wanted to but because Erik thought it was a good idea and while he didn't care much of what the other thought he figured it'd buy him some brownie points and as Colton said get him to cut some time off of bathroom duty. 

He lightly pushed Cynthia away. The hug had gone on for long enough and it wasn't exactly wanted. She still smiled as she retracted, “You look well. Are you doing okay?” 

“Yeah. Great.” 

“I'm glad!”

The house was silent, that was the first time he noticed it. It wasn't that it was ever typically loud, only when Connor was yelling and smashing shit was it, but it was unusually silent. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Oh! Zoe is still at practice but she should be done,” she paused looking at the clock, “actually right about now and your father is at work but he should be here before dinner.” 

He sighed out of relief. He could deal with just Cynthia for now, and maybe Zoe when she got home, but Larry was a different ballgame. 

He nodded, “I’m going to be upstairs if that's okay? I just need to grab some clothes since I don't have a lot at the house.” 

“Yes of course! I'll call you down when dinner is ready, okay?”

_“Just call me if you need anything,” Colton said as the two of them sat on the floor of his bedroom the night before. He needed someone else's opinion of what to do that didn't have a degree in understanding emotions or whatever and had somewhat of an idea about asshole parents. “Or if shit gets too much like shoot me a text and I'll call you and you can pull the ‘there's an emergency’ excuse and get the fuck outta there.”_

_“Isn't that used for dates?”_

_“That's not important! Just if you need to get out of there I'll be there or I can storm in there and be your Batman.”_

_“You think I'm Robin?”_

_“Is your brain wired to only pick up the unimportant parts of what others are saying?”_

_“Well to be fair most of the crap that comes from your mouth is unimportant.”_

Slowly he walked up the stairs before he reached his room. He still didn't have a door, guessing there was probably no point in putting a door up for a room that wasn't going to be occupied anyways. It was the same as always, cleaner, yes, but the same. Desk against the wall in between his closet and door frame, and bed with its navy blue sheets in the middle of the room. For the most part his room was empty. The walls were empty, lacking all personality, the same shitty beige color they’ve always been. It was boring, plain, and simple, the way Connor liked it. 

His desk was more organized. Loose papers weren't haphazardly spread across the wooden surface instead now in a pile in the corner, and his small collection of figurines were lined on top. Even the drawers of his desk were organized. The art supplies that he had just thrown inside them were sorted, and the last two drawers were filled with his books. 

Someone clearly spent too much time in his room.

And while his desk might be cleaned off it didn't change that his hiding spot was left untouched. Taped behind his dresser was a small baggie. He stared at it debating whether he should just place it back and pretend like it wasn't there or--

“Hey,” Zoe said leaning against the doorframe. 

Quickly he shoved the baggie in his pocket and turned to her, “Hey.” 

“Thought mom would be talking your ear off when I got home how'd you escape that?” 

“No clue,” he shrugged. 

Zoe still stood in the doorway seemingly to have something to say instead just said, “I'll see you at dinner,” before rushing to her own room. 

Zoe and him were never on good terms. Sure when they were younger they were, but that when times were easier and all you had to do to get people to like you was smile or offer them some of your cookie. But they grew up, and everything changed. They couldn't be in the same room as each other without it ending in a screaming match. They weren't close, and they probably won't ever be. And while it sucked it wasn't anything he hadn't already come to terms with. He fucked up their whole relationship and he didn't expect just because he was sober to change that. 

He tossed his bag on the bed, opened his closet, and shoved some clothes in the bag. He had a couple outfits at the house but he was tired of lounging around in jeans because he had been too stubborn to pack when he first came, completely forgetting about the baggie in his pocket now. After that he spent his time reprinting his nails because the color had completely chipped away at this point and nail polish wasn't exactly something they were allowed to have at the house. He texted Colton and played a game on his phone till he was called down for dinner. 

_> >Connor:  
Wish me luck_

He sent Colton the message before trudging down the stairs for what could only be a nightmare of a night. 

Only Larry sat at the table when he came down. Cynthia was still busy in the kitchen, and Zoe was nowhere in sight. 

“Where's Zoe?” he asked hesitantly taking a seat.

“She'll be right down honey!” Cynthia called from the kitchen. 

He sat awkwardly at the table with Larry. He had yet to actually acknowledge Connor, and he was starting to think it was for the best. If Larry ignored him then there wouldn't have to be any fighting and maybe, maybe, for once his family wouldn't think he was a complete and utter fuck up. 

Zoe came down a few minutes later, sitting across from Connor, and Cynthia emerged from the kitchen setting a dish on the table. 

“So Connor,” Cynthia started once they all settled and dispersed food on their plates. “How was school?”

“Fine,” he mumbled. It hadn't be particularly bad just the usual boring and uneventful day. 

“And what about you princess, how was school?” Larry asked. Connor shot Zoe a confused look, never once ever hearing Larry call her that. She matched an equally confused expression, both clueless over the nickname randomly dropped by their father. 

Zoe ignored it going into talking about how busy her day was with a couple test and the jazz band winter recital coming up not too far from now. Connor was just glad Zoe had taken control of the conversation so he didn't have to be grilled about his life at Pleasant Springs. 

He tuned most of the conversation out, pushing his food around his plate because while apparently a lot has changed since his absence he doubted Cynthia’s cooking did. 

“Connor,” he was snapped from his boredom and back to the dinner table conversation.

“What? sorry--”

“I was just asking about finals,” Cynthia said.

“What about them?”

“Well have you been studying for them?”

Zoe snickered, “That would be a first.” 

He shot Zoe a look before responding, “Somewhat. With Evan.”

“That's wonderful honey!” Without missing a beat she changed the conversation. “And how's Pleasant Springs?”

“It's fine.”

“Causing a lot of trouble there,” Larry added.

“Larry--”

“What? All I’m saying is that the counselor has called us nearly a dozen times already about your behavior and it hasn't even been a month.”

Connor bit his tongue because while he wanted to go off on Larry he would be overreacting. It wasn't like he could deny it either. He had broken plenty of the rules at the house, so he didn't exactly have a strong case. He sat back in his chair, shoving peas around his plate. 

“He's trying honey.”

“Clearly not hard enough,” Larry spat.

Connor just scoffed because they had no idea how hard it was to keep himself in check. They would never understand the struggles of not only battling addiction but also his own mental health. It was hell, and sometimes he needed to break a few rules to get away from it all. Not that they would ever see that. All they would see is Connor was the same dysfunctional delinquent as before not the one who was struggling to overcome everything in his life. 

He couldn't help but feel angry and annoyed. They would never understand yet they were taking jabs at him like it was as easy as ‘just don't do it’. And Connor wished it was, wished he could just reject the temptation creeping in nearly every damn day, but he couldn't. And it sucked. being a fucking addict sucked. And he didn't even realize how much control these drugs had over his life until he gotten into Pleasant Springs. 

28 days. 28 days and it still wasn't any easier. Sure he wasn't having withdrawal symptoms anymore, but the craving was always there, and whenever shit got really bad it was the first thought in his mind. Because maybe things would be better if he could somehow just numb himself from everything. 

And fighting that, fighting those thoughts were what made recovery such a bitch.

“Had to pull a lot of strings to keep you in there y’know,” and with every jab, and every word Connor could feel himself unwind, until the last strand of his sanity had snapped. 

He shoved his chair back as he stood and leaned forward on the table, “Fuck you! You don't have the slightest clue as to how fucking hard this is for me! I told you, I fucking told you I needed help and you ignore me, but the second my problems are outed and could potentially bring shame to this fucking family you push me into some rehab and turn your backs on me. And now, now I'm fucking trying my hardest to turn my life around with absolutely no help from any of you and you treat me like fucking garbage and make me feel guilty for this? No fuck you!” The vein in his neck bulged in taut cords as he continued yelling. “Yeah I’m a reject with fucking drugs and alcohol problems, but at least I'm not some uptight, self-righteous, self-absorbed douchebag whose too high up on their own horse to care about their own son or brother,” With that he stormed off not allowing anyone else to say anything. He didn't want to hear anything else or some half-assed bullshit excuse. He didn't care. He pushed out the door, slamming it behind him as he quickly walked down the street, anger fuming off of him. 

The baggie in his pocket burned, tempting him to just numb himself so he wouldn't have to feel like he was going to explode any minute. He grabbed his phone from his other pocket, shakily scrolling to find Colton’s contact.

_“If you need to get out of there I'll be there.”_

It rang twice before Colton answered, “I need you to pick me up.” 

“Okay, on my way,” he hung up and continued his walk to a nearby park where he spent far too many nights getting high after fighting with his parents. He ignored the playground and walked back to the small pond was. 

It took Colton about ten minutes to find Connor standing on the small dock staring out into the water. 

“I had to use find my friends because you--” he stopped noticing the baggie in Connor's hand. “Connor, please tell me you did not--”

“I couldn't,” he hated the way his voice sounded, weak and vulnerable. “I was this close Colton from relapsing I-I--”

“Hey, hey no it's okay you didn't use which is the important thing.”

“I wanted to. I still want to.”

“But you were strong enough not to,” Colton said. Connor didn't feel strong if anything he felt the complete opposite. He felt weak and stupid and he couldn't stop thinking about how if Colton didn't show up when he did he might have actually done it. And he hated himself for it because he was weakweakweak--

Colton reached out and took Connor's hands into his, “It's hard, I know it's hard, but you are strong Connor and you can beat this, okay?”

Connor nodded, “okay.”

“Now throw it.”

“What?”

“Throw it,” Colton ordered. “Get some closure or whatever.”

Connor gave him a skeptical look, and Colton just nodded. Of course Connor knew it was the right thing to do, maybe not litter but to get rid of it that was. He sighed, cranked his arm back and threw it in the water. 

Surprisingly it felt great. It wasn't burning in his palm anymore, tempting him. He watched as it floated on top of the waters surface, and he sighed feeling free. 

“C’mon,” Colton said. “Let's get outta here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: I've made Connor tooo soft throughout this I must give him his edge back  
> also me: wait no go back
> 
> Thanks for reading whatever this was... yikes.


	21. Oxygen's Overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Connor is officially thirty days sober and helps a friend in need. 
> 
> tw:  
> +self-harm  
> +blood  
> +

“So you left?” Erik echoed after Connor had recapped the chaos that occured when he went home. 

He was reluctant to share because he didn't want to stir up those emotions again. It had been two days since he went home, and he spent all of Saturday camped up in his room staring at the ceiling with a feeling of emptiness in his chest. 

The idea of relapsing really got to him. He had been so close to throwing away everything and it scared him. It scared him because even after all this time drugs still had this hold on him. It made him feel weak, powerless, and pretty freaking pathetic. 

Luckily the house left he alone on Saturday, but today was a different story. Ty had practically dragged him out of bed and down for breakfast, and when he tried to sneak back upstairs to get out of group Colton had pulled him back to the circle. 

Group was just as boring as it ever was. Connor never really paid attention during it. Personally, he thought it was a waste of time. He had bigger problems, and listening to Jazz go on about the right pronunciation of mozzarella wasn't helping. 

And it wasn't as if Connor ever really shared during group. He had that one time, but since he's kind of been silent. Sharing didn't come naturally to him since he was so used to people ignoring him or shutting him out that he's learned not to confide in others. 

It's the same in their one-on-ones. Most of the days Connor gave him one word replies to his questions, and there's little to none conversation at all. If they was most of the time they were arguing about him not following the rules. Today Erik pushed him to talk about dinner with his family, which Connor was trying really hard to shove into the back of his mind and pretend never happened. 

And of course the lack of sharing frustrated Erik because he thinks Connor isn't taking this seriously. And now Erik was probably mad or disappointed because he wanted Connor to do this and he fucked it all up, like usual. 

It didn't matter what he did somehow he always managed to fuck things up: his relationship with his family, nearly getting expelled from school, almost getting both Colton and him killed by being weak, hurting Evan by ignoring him, physical hurting Jared by punching him in the face, and now this. There was probably many other things that he's fucked up, because let's face it he's a walking disaster! He messes up everything, and all it ever does is end up hurting people or making the people with the slightest bit of hope for him disappointed. He wished it was different, that for once in his miserable excuse of a life he could do something right. 

Erik sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, “I'm sorry,” _wait.. what?_ “I should have listened when you expressed not wanting to, so I'm sorry Connor. I thought it would be good for your recovery when--”

“It was,” Connor interrupted. Because while the whole thing kind of made him want to get stoned or drunk to the point where everything didn't suck quiet as much, he didn't, and sure maybe Colton's presence had helped him overcome the urge to relapse, but who really cares about details. 

It was his first interaction with drugs since entering the house and yeah it was a bit of a struggle but it was exactly what he needed in terms of furthering his recovery.

“What?”

“After I left I--,” he paused, running his hand through his hair. He knew he had to tell Erik, being honest in recovery and all that jazz, but something about showcasing his own weaknesses made him uncomfortable. Embarrassed, he guessed. “--I had found an old stash in my room and after everything I don't know I-I almost used and honestly if it wasn't for Colton I probably would have.” 

“But you didn't and that's what important,” he felt a weird sort of déjà vu since Colton had literally said the same thing to him on the dock two nights ago. “the hardest part of recovery is not falling for temptations and you pushed through.”

he shrugged, “I guess.” 

“You should be proud of yourself Connor. It takes a lot of strength to not relapse,” Erik said. 

He fiddled with the stupid plastic chip in his pocket. During group Erik had handed it to him. Apparently today marked thirty days of him being sober. He has dealt with a lot in the past thirty days. He's overcome and fought back against so many things, and yet he was still clean. Maybe he shouldn't be so hard on himself. He was thirty freaking days clean! Thirty! On his first day he wasn't even sure if he could last 24 hours and now… yeah, now he definitely had something to be proud of. Maybe it was just like Colton had said when he first entered the house,

_“The biggest problem with people just entering recovery is that they overlook the small steps. They look too far in the future, and get frustrated that progress isn't made overnight. With people like us you have to live day to day, hour to hour, or hell even minute to minute because progress comes, but it comes slowly and it is frustrating, but you'll get there, and you'll look back on the time your standing questioning if sobriety is worth it and you'll realize how much progress you've truly made.”_

“I think the next step for you in your recovery is to choose a sponsor.”

“A what?”

“A sponsor is someone you can rely on when you need emotional support or feel threatened to relapse. They are going to help you walk through the steps and help you stay sober,” Erik explained. “You're strong Connor, but as I've said many times sobriety is hard enough and you really should have someone to help you along the way.” 

“Uh, okay.” It wasn't like Connor even had many options for a sponsor. He trusted all of two people, and one of them didn't even know he was in the program. So really he had one option: Colton. He had been pretty reliant on him since coming into the house, and even if all they were doing was watching horrible movies he still at least managed to distract Connor from everything for a while. They were friends, and Connor trusted him, but he really didn't want to ask Colton to be his sponsor. He didn't want to ask anyone to be his sponsor. He had been doing okay with the support he's been getting from Colton, and Evan, and everyone else in the house so was there even a point in giving someone the label of sponsor? He didn't quite see the point. 

They wrapped up their one-on-ones. Erik had said he wanted Connor to pick a sponsor within the week, but that probably wasn't going to happen. Why change a bulb that's working? He had time to kill before he'd inevitably be dragged back downstairs for dinner so he trudged back upstairs. On his way to his room he heard a muffled sob from the bathroom. He probably would have just ignored it if the door wasn't ajar, and he didn't see the red on the tile floor. 

Colton gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, and scrubs his face with his hand. 

It's too loud. It's always so fucking loud.

Barking laughter cuts through his mind like a sharp knife and he curls into himself, finger threading through his hair. He pulls on it and it hurts a little, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the the laughter. 

The venomous cruel shrill of laughter rattles in his skull, and god.. how can anyone laugh like that? He didn't even know who it was, but he could hear it from his current position on the bathroom floor and it left a bitterness like vinegar in his mouth. 

He's disgusting.

He's _so_ disgusting.

Hot tears sting his eyes and Colton tugs on his hair, harder, and jaw clenched so tight it felt like his teeth were going to crack. 

Weak. He's so weak. He's pathetic. Why is he even here? It's not like anyone gives a shit whether he's sober or not, or even alive at this point. He could simply disappear, and no one would even bat an eye because of how much he did not matter. 

He should leave. Being here wasn't helping anyone. All it was doing was hurting more and more people by roping them up in his shit. He hurt a lot of people, and he should just go. Leave, go. Let everyone here focus on their own recovery and not his petty bullshit. Leave and let them be happy.

That's what he should do. He knows that's what he should do, because he's already failed three times and it wouldn't surprise anyone if yet again he fucked up, but.. but he can't. 

He doesn't know why. He doesn't know why he insist on always making things harder on everyone else. Why he was so damn selfish all the time. Always putting himself above everyone else.

A full body tremble wracked through him as he bites his lip to keep from letting out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut so the tears don't continue to roll down his face. It's too hard to breathe now and the room seems smaller than it already is. It's too hot, and he can feel his skin warm as his throat clogs with guilt. 

He's weak. 

He doesn't notice his nails clawing into his throat deep enough to draw small beads of blood from it. All he can feel is the overwhelmingly emptiness in his chest and the burning of his throat. He can't catch his breath and everything is spinning. His ears are ringing with the sound of that stupid laugh and his heart feels like it's going to burst from him. 

It's too much. Everything is too much.

He keeps looking back at the metal bit in front of him on the floor. And he can't help it. With shaky hands he picks it up. Too coldness of it feels good against his hot skin. And he can't help it as he drags it against his forearm. 

Because he's weak.

And it's so loud that if he doesn't do something he's going to scream until his lungs give out or he might even just toss himself from the window because surely two stories of a drop might be enough for him to break his neck and silence these voices. 

Colton's never felt this pathetic in his life.

Not even when he was with Demo and his gang trying to make enough money to at least get him off the streets. Not even when he was laying up in some hospital bed, cold and alone because he had overdosed and some poor sap found him in a ditch. But here, right now, blood seeping from the wound on his arm and tears running down his face in the bathroom of a fucking sober house was when he felt his life had official hit rock bottom. 

He knows he's having a breakdown, knows he's probably going to end up bleeding out on these bathroom tiles because he's so fucking weak and pathetic. He knows. But right now the pain in his arm is enough to block out the laughter, and he.. he doesn't care. 

He’s fucked up. He's fucked up so bad. He's supposed to be better now. Six fucking months and he's supposed to be better. He's supposed to be able to take care of himself and not need to rely on others for help. He's supposed to be able to control himself, but he's fucked up and a pathetic shit and it's too much. He's a failure and it's all his fault. It's too much. 

Colton gasps out another breath, shuddering as he's body temperature finally falls. There's splotches in his vision, and and--

“Colton?”

_oh god._

He snaps his head towards Connor and sheer terror rips through him at the worry on his face. Because he's not supposed to find him. He's not supposed to help. Colton has used him and hurt him and and he's not supposed to help. He's supposed to let him die. Let him leave so the house can be happy.

“Colton,” Connor said again kneeling next to him. He grabs the cloth from the sink behind him going to help, or at least try to help control the bleeding from his left arm. 

“Don't fucking touch me,” Colton snaps at him, smacking his hand away. Connor's hand drops briefly, blue eyes staring at him, shocked and confused. He wants to lash out, tell Connor to go fuck off and leave him alone, but he can't breathe let alone yell at someone. 

A hand grips his arm, and he hisses as more pain is being sent through his body. 

“You need to calm down,” Connor said pushing the cloth down on the gash on his forearm. It stings and he can feel more tears well up in his eyes. An almost whimper nearly falls from his lips, but he manages to suppress it as he cling to his last shreds of self-control. 

And he's so tired. He wants to simply close his eyes and sleep.

Connor moves, one of his hands still bundled with the cloth against his skin, and he's grabbing the small first-aid kit from under the sink.

“N-no. Stop,” Colton mumbles trying to find the strength to push him off and let him bleed out, but he doesn't budge.

“Please just shut up and let me do this,” Connor grumbles. 

He doesn't want Connor to save him. He doesn't want him to play fucking doctor and patch him up, because he knows if he does Connor is going to treat him like he's glass and he'd rather just completely shatter than have that happen. With his right hand he tries to pry Connor’s hand off his arm, ending up scratching the back of his hand.

“Stop that.”

Colton ignores him. He needs to make him leave. He needs to make him go away. Needs the pressure on his arm go away so the blood can continue to stain his forearm and not the cloth. 

“I fucking told you to stop,” Connor snaps grabbing ahold of his wrist. He can't move. He can't scratch. The pressure is still there on his forearm.

“Please,” he chokes out, hating how desperate his voice sounded. 

Connor rolled his eyes, “I'm going to grab some gauze. I swear to god if you scratch me one more time I'm going to break your fucking hand,” he threatens. He hadn't meant to be so much of an asshole, clearly Colton was struggling and he didn't need Connor being so cruel, but Colton was being difficult, and as much as Colton begged he wasn't going to let him bleed out on the bathroom floor. 

He was terrified, and he had no idea how he's been able to manage this right now. He was practically running on auto-pilot, doing anything in order to help Colton. 

Connor drops Colton's hand, falling limp in his lap. Colton hates it. He hates that stupidly he couldn't even get Connor off of him. He hates how weak he is. He hates the small panicked noise leaving him. He hates the fear and panic in Connor’s eyes. He hates how Connor's hand doesn't leave his arm, and how he keeps eyeing him like he's going to break him. 

He hates himself.

And right now he kind of hates Connor because why the fuck won't he just give up? Why is he trying to save him? Why does he care so damn much?

He wants to bash his head against the wall. It would be easy. All he had to do was lean forward slightly and thrust his head back. It probably would hurt, but maybe he crack his skull open or something. Maybe it'd help increase the rate of his death, or maybe he'd just end up killing himself on impact. 

“Connor please,” he sobs, “I don't--I can't do this anymore. Please. Please just go.”

Connor chose to ignore him. “This is going to sting,” Connor informed him. He had to clean the cut before he could wrap it to prevent infection, and from experience he knew how much it hurt. Connor pressed the antiseptic wipe to Colton's injure lightly. Colton sucked in a sharp breath at the stinging sensation running up his arm. He shoots him an apologetic glance as he dabs around the cut. He hadn't cut deep enough for him to need stitches, at least Connor didn't think he had, so he figured it he'd just dress it properly with gauze it'd heal. 

If Colton had any energy left he'd probably squirm, make it impossible for Connor to fix him, but he didn't. He simply let Connor wrap his arm in the white gauze, because he was weak. And he's tired.

He just wants to lay on the ground until he withers away. It's so fucking exhausting and he really, really just wants to sleep. 

Connor finished wrapping his arm, and tears once again all falling from Colton's eyes. He's a fucking mess. He’s a mess, a burden, troublesome, and and--

Bile shoots up in his throat and he tumbles, turning towards the toilet just in time to throw up without doing it on himself. He coughs and cries with it, not able to help how his body trembles from it. He hates it. He hates himself. He hates everything so much. 

He's pathetic and disgusting.

Colton slums in defeat against the toilet, letting his eyes fall close tiredly. A weak laugh croaks from him, because god this fucking sucked.

“Two years ago I tried too.”

Colton's eyes snapped open at the low voice. Connor's head is bowed, expression hidden, but he could catch him taking a slightly deeper breath than necessary with the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

“I had felt so alone and honestly I thought everyone would be better off without me. I was high and had just fought with my father and I didn't really have anything to lose. I took some pills and next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital. Things were I don't know I guess okay for a bit after that? My family was practically smothering me, concerned I was going to try again, but eventually it faded and we were right back where we started. And then last year I tried again. I was going to throw myself off a bridge and I shit you not it was like straight out of some twisted romance movie but it was raining and Evan was yelling at me and and he ended up talking me down,” he sighed running his hand through his hair. “What I'm trying to say is that I know how you feel. I've been there, and I still feel way most of the time. I'm not going to judge you Colt, and you sure the hell don't need to tell me what happened I just-- you're my friend and I need you to know that I care about you and I care whether you're here or not okay? You've helped me through so much and I'm..I'm not going to let you go through this alone, okay?” 

That confession was enough to send Colton's heart fluttering a strange beat. He had been alone for majority of his life and hearing the sincerity in Connor's voice when he said he mattered to him made his heart flip. 

“Okay,” he mumbled because he didn't really know what else to say. 

“C’mon,” Connor said pushing himself off the ground and stretching out his hand to pull Colton up. “Let's get you to bed.”

He's dizzy still, and he has to use Connor for support to keep him from crumbling back down to the ground. Once they were in Colton's room, Connor tossed him some clothes, which he changed into before he crawled into bed.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Would it be really weird if I asked you to stay?” Colton asked. He knew he wasn't going to try anything tonight, he was far too exhausted to do anything, but he really didn't want to be alone after everything. 

Connor shook his head. He ended up taking the floor while Colton drifted off to sleep in his bed. He still felt numb, but it helped knowing he had Connor and he wasn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're happy and you know it clap your hands... *dead silence*
> 
> im sorry colton that i poured my emotions into your character this chapter. ily
> 
> ive been struggling a bitty but hopefully i will have the next chapter done without making you guys waiting 94 years. 
> 
> thank you for reading~~ i appreciate you lots.


	22. Bleak December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which the boys tackle finals and play some video games  
> (literally just filler im!sorry!)

Once upon a time Evan liked the holidays. They were cheerful and happiness was contagious during those times. Times were easier during the holiday, or well they were, but he wasn't a kid anymore. Now instead of worrying about if he was going to get some toy truck as a gift he was worrying about how he was going to pass his finals. There was still a week before they were off for winter break which meant every day had become him desperately trying to cramp a semester worth of information in his brain. 

Test in general make him nervous, but exams.. those are a whole ‘nother ball game. They were so heavily weighted that if he bombed one he'd more than likely end up failing the class and then he wouldn't graduate and he'd be that one stupid kid who would have to repeat senior year because he couldn't remember who the goddess of the hearth was. 

The system entirely was a joke. He had decent grades right now, but because of one test that was mostly on how well he could remember and retain the information he learned way back in September he could end up not passing. 

So there he was, studying at the library because he couldn't focus in the eerie quietness of his house. He ended up walking to the library because anywhere else would probably have been too distracting, and no one was likely to judge him for studying there. 

He wished his methods of studying were better but trying to study for five different classes and feel somewhat prepared for all of them was an insanely difficult task. Mostly he was just reading over his notes in attempt for some of the nonsense to lodge itself in his memory or reviewing the note cards Connor had “helped” him create each with some sort of little doodle sketched in the corner.

Connor wasn't a bad student he just lacked the motivation and will to try and be a better one. And surprisingly he was really helpful in helping Evan prepare for his psychology final when he wasn’t quoting How I Met Your Mother episodes or begging Evan to take a break because he really, _really_ , wanted chicken nuggets. 

For the most part they worked efficiently enough, at least now Evan knew the difference between classical conditioning and operant conditioning. Thanks to Connor's dumb examples they were probably going to be the only thing he remembered because “the sillier the examples the easier it is to remember” or whatever.

He liked studying with Connor. Studying was easier when he had someone to help him with it, and even though sometimes he got frustrated with Connor's short attention span or random distractions for the most part he hard fun and it didn't quiet feel like studying. But Connor had a thing or something and left Evan’s early today so now he had to suffer with the alternative of studying at the library alone. 

And it was going fine, at least now he knew the goddess of the hearth was Hestia. He stayed at the library cramming myth and legends into his brain till there was pressure behind his eyes and his head started to hurt from all of it. By the time he was walking back home the sun had set, and the street lamps had turned on; a warm yellow lit his path back home. He ended up taking the long way because even though it was December and freezing he simply just didn't want to be back in his empty house. He adjusted the straps on his backpack as he walked.

Finals were probably going to be the death of him. Tomorrow was day one, and he had two of his five scheduled. His first one was stats which he was less confident on. It was probably his worst class, and even though he had studied for hours he still couldn't quite figure out when he was supposed to use a 2-sample t distribution or a paired test. It was frustrating and it was definitely going to put him in a bad mood early on.

His second of the day was substantially easier. It was AP Environmental and nothing they had done in that class during the semester was challenging for him to grasp. He felt prepared for that one, and even if his stats final went poorly at least he knew he'd manage a decent grade on environmental. Or he hoped he would. 

When he finally arrived home he couldn't feel his toes or fingers, and his face kind of stung from the bitter weather. He kicked off his shoes and tossed down his bag once he managed to open the door after fiddling with the lock. Not surprisingly the house was still empty, the same note Heidi had left this morning was still on the counter telling him how she wouldn't be home till late. He fell on the couch, wrapping a small blanket around him. His head hurt, and he was stressed beyond belief, and after hours of studying constantly for the past couple of days he deserves a break. 

And maybe binging True Detective till nearly three in the morning when his mom finally came home was a little too long of a break, but he hadn't even figured out the killer yet! Of course getting roughly two hours of sleep and going into taking a final was a bad idea, but it wasn't like he could just blow it off and sleep in. He walked into school exhausted and practically vibrating from how anxious he was. Connor didn't looked any better when he met up with Evan by his locker monday morning before they headed off to take their tests. He looked pale, paler than usual, and the dark sullen circles under his eyes suggested that like Evan he probably didn't get much sleep either.

“You look awful,” Evan blurted out immediately regretting it.

“Gee thanks Ev,” Connor said, fully aware of how awful he looked. He hadn't got any sleep. It had taken almost a month before Colton actually told him who and what happened that night at the motel, and he ended up staying up because his mind would not stop racing about what Colton had shared.

_“I used to run drugs for them, and ended up getting in all kinds of trouble,” Colton started. “There was this one night they wanted me to run a shipment and normally I wouldn't question it, we sold to sketchy guys all the time, but this time it was to Marlo Simons, you know the dude that runs Simons Industrial, the oil company, and I just-- it didn't feel right. It was like they didn't trust me simply by the way they spoke of the deal and ran through the operation step by step. It should have been my first red flag because normally they didn't give a damn how you made it as long as it got there in time. But yeah so anyways I didn't do the drop and ended up sort of screwing Demo over."_

_"What do you mean?" Connor asked._

_"Well I guess the packet had some incriminating evidence that could probably put Simons away for years and years. Apparently they were trying to blackmail him with it, and so when I took it back to Demo and told him we had to turn it over to the cops you can imagine how well that ended,” he chuckled nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn't ever told anyone his past, no one was ever interested enough in him to ask. “Next thing I know I'm waking up in a hospital room, O.D. they said, but I never got high during drops."_

_"What so they tried to kill you?"_

_"And failed I guess,” he said, shrugging like someone attempting to murder you was a normal thing. “I ended up coming here. Nothing quite like waking up in a hospital room after almost being killed and realizing how completely fucked your life was. It was kind of my wake up call that I needed to change. That dealing drugs and having people attempt to murder me wasn't the way I wanted to live. So yeah I ended up here, and I managed to not stick to the rules and torched my sobriety in the first week. Second time it was because I had nowhere else to go and Erik offered me a second chance.. again which I blew. And now here I am once again because for some reason Erik has faith in me or something. I don't know.”_

_“Wait but that doesn't explain the motel. I get there were pissed about you screwing them over but the things they were saying.. the microfiche.. I-it still doesn't make sense.”_

_“When I ruined the drop Demo said that the money they would have gained from it was now transferred to my debt. I basically told them to eat shit and die and that's when they told me if I didn't pay up that they have enough evidence on me to put me in jail for a couple decades. The motel was going to be my last payment I’d finally covered my debt and I would be rid of them, but when I saw him grab you I-,” he sighed. “I don't know I freaked out and just started swinging, and then Demo is coming at me with a knife andandand--”_

_“It was self-defense,” Colton said, trying to bring him some peace because Colton looked freaked out remembering the events of that night. It was understandable, getting in a fight and barely escaping with your life was traumatic and seeing Colton on the brink of a panic attack was tell for him to just take the information he had gotten and not press for anymore. Plus it was only a week or so after Colton had tried to kill himself, and Connor was worried that if he did keep searching for answers he might push Colton too far and he might try again._

_He spent the rest of that night calming Colton down, and staring at his ceiling trying to piece together the missing parts of the story. Was Demo still alive? Was blondey and tattoo as well? Did Colton ever get the microfiche or was there still this huge possibility he could wind up in a 6x8 cell? Would Demo, if he still was kicking, come after Colton? Would he come after Connor and it could be like one of those crime shows and he'd be the leverage? And what if Demo and them were dead? Would he be an accomplice to murder? Any jury would be stupid not to see if was self-defense, but the whole judicial system was fucked so maybe they'd end up convicting them anyways. A quick way to get two fuck ups off the street, he supposed. Would he ending up in prison? Could he even survive prison? He had gotten his ass handed to him by tattoo, who despite his scrawny appearance was incredibly strong, how was he going to survive if a prison gang or something attacked him?_

_And it sucked because the more his mind wandered the darker and more wild his thoughts got, but all he knew was he definitely was not cut out to be in prison. By the time he had gotten his thoughts somewhat back on the rails his alarm was blaring for him to go to school._

“I'm sorry! N-no that's n-not what I meant it's just you don't look like you've slept much and I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that,” Evan apologized frantically.

“Looks like I'm not the only one who didn't sleep.”

“Yeah, no. I took a break from studying and I-uh I lost track of time I guess.”

“Nerd. I'm think I'm just going to pick D for all of them and hope for the best,” Connor shrugged. He could really care less what he got on his exams. Normally he would at least somewhat try so he didn't have his parents grilling him all break but he’s not home anymore so as long as he passed the only class he really needed for graduating, english, he was fine. 

“Connor--” he started but was cut off by the warning bell. 

“I should probably go, but I'll see you later, right” Evan nodded. “And hey, don't sweat it Ev, you're like the smartest person I know there is no way you dont got this,” and with his words of encouragement he left heading to his own class. Evan slipped into his classroom, his heart already increasing in pace as he started his exam. 

And in honesty it wasn't that bad. Or well, he thought it wasn't that bad. Stats were one of those classes where you could walk away feeling like you did somewhat decent, but then get your test back and it turns out you've failed it. But the final itself was challenging, yes, but it didn't make him want to toss his test in the trash and walk out of the classroom mid exam. Of course even if it did he couldn't ever do that. People would be staring at him, and he'd most likely be a choice of topic for everyone. _‘This loser couldn't comprehend simple statistics and ended up walking out of the exam!’_ He really wanted to avoid being noticed so luckily the test wasn't too difficult. Environmental was a cakewalk. He was one of the first people to turn in his exam, not the first even though he probably did finish first because again he didn't want any attention on him for being the first one done. 

But overall day one didn't go too bad. Of course he'd have to wait for his scores but now that they were over, well two down, and he felt somewhat relieved. He still had three, well technically two since he had turned in his photos portfolio, but he had a free day tomorrow to study for them. 

He waited in the courtyard for Connor to finish up before they walked back to his house. Connor immediately flopped down on the couch while Evan grabbed drinks and snacks from the kitchen. Connor had spent so time at Evan’s recently that the routine was normal for them and didn't freak him out as much as when they first started hanging out. He joined Connor on the couch catching the familiar smell of vanilla that always followed Connor. It was comforting and pleasing, not strong and repugnant like the axe sprays all the other boys overused. He smiled to himself as he settled into the cushions, listening as Connor continued his rant about how Oberyn was the best character and they really didn't need to kill him off the way they did. 

They talked, mostly about Game Of Thrones and school, and played a bit of Halo because that was the only game Evan had. Jared had been talking about it nonstop when it came out so he ended up getting it and whenever Jared needed Evan to hang out with him for his car insurance they would play a bit. Evan was convinced everyone was better than him at the game, or he simply just sucked, because whether it was against Jared or Connor he always be shredded to pieces almost instantly once he respawned. 

“Dude stop camping spawn!” Evan yelled after the third time he had been killed right after being reviving.

“I'm not!” Connor continued to mash buttons “You just happened to revive as I ran by.” 

“Cheater,” Evan mumbled under his breath.

“Scrub.”

They played a couple more round of 1v1, not surprisingly Connor ended up winning, before switching to capture the flag. They weren't killing each other so it made the hostility simmer between them. 

“There's one in nest,” Evan called out.

“Yeah yeah go I'm literally right behind you.” 

The math was on their side. They'd push in and it's be a 2v1 and easy enough they should get the kill, but it turned out to be a 2vgrenade and… yeah grenades are powerful. 

“Well that was…”

“I can't believe that happened,” Connor said before they both fell into laughter. It took them nearly a full minute before they were able to contain themselves. 

Connor didn't stay much longer after that. He never stayed around much anymore, and Evan would be lying if he said he didn't miss when they lost track of time and Connor ended up staying over till midnight or staying over. He had told Evan he was trying to work on his relationship with his family, which was great and everything until he saw the looks Zoe would give him in the hallway or the accident conversations he would overhear. It wasn't like there would be immediate change, but Evan could see how much he was trying to be better so for Zoe to still be so… distance and truculent was strange to him. 

There was also the thought in his mind, implemented by Jared, that Connor was lying to him. That he in fact was not working on being a better son or brother and he was off with Colton. Which was fine, truthfully. If Connor would rather spend his time with Colton, fine, but he'd rather not have Connor lie directly to his face about it. The truth would hurt the, ‘hey, you don't do it for me anymore and I found someone else who Id rather spend my time with’, but again he'd rather Connor just tell him that instead of potentially overreacting about it. Because what if he was actually working on being better and Evan was just getting pissed off because of some stupid assumption he made? Hed feel awful because he really should just trust Connor and it wasn't like Connor was fully cutting Evan from his life so did it really matter if Connor was splitting his time between the two? His head said no- that he was overreacting and should be grateful that someone wanted his pathetic self in their lives- but his heart screamed yes because as selfish as it was he didnt want to share Connor. It had taken him a while, but New York really opened his eyes to what he truly felt. 

That yes, he was gay, or bi at least, and he has a crush on his best friend who might or might not be in a relationship already. 

And it sucked but as long as Connor was still in his life he could live with it. Or well, he thought he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yawn*
> 
> Hai! I need your guys personal opinion so I know where to take this story~~
> 
> Do you guys like Colton's character or?? 
> 
> I have like 7382 ideas for this story and I need help in choosing what happens and what gets cut. danke.


	23. 11 Blocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the boys struggles to escape their own darkness.

_For a long time, Connor knew only darkness. He didn't remember when it quiet started, but his mother swore there once was this light inside of him. Upon years and years of hardship the light flickered out like a candle in the harsh winds. Darkness had consumed him, grabbed a hold of him and forced him to suffer and live inside of the void._

_At some point in the confusing darkness he heard a voice calling his name. After hearing Connor several times, he decide to finally go after it._

_Surrounding him was just the empty void of nothingness. He couldn't see a thing, but he used his hearing to the best of his ability and moved himself towards it. Towards his name._

_Soon it sounded like the voice was right next to him but he couldn't see. He reached out but nothing was there._

_He spun in circles, his hands stretched out in from of him to feel for something. For someone. There was nothing there, but the voice still echoed in the darkness. Then there was a click. He had no idea what the sound was but instinctively he turned towards where he thought he heard it from. He stalled, mind spinning trying to locate the noise. Nothing._

_“Connor,” a familiar voice said. He couldn't exactly pinpoint who's it was though. It was soft and authoritative._

_And then the lights snapped on. He threw up his hand, using the back of his to block the sudden brightness. He squinted noticing a figure standing a couple meters in front of him and the barrel of a light caliber pointed directly at him._

_Harsh static buzzed in his ears, and Connor couldn’t move. A pool of blood spread along his right flank, and the entire side of his body flamed with pain. A surging wave of agony suddenly washed over him; pain was shooting throughout his entire body from his leg. His pulse was racing, and his skin was a little cold and clammy._

_Connor swallowed, his throat barely working constricting as he tried to breathe. A squeak of agony popped from his lips like a bubble. The pain radiating from his thigh had cranked up, and the thought of moving terrified him. He wondered if he was going to pass out._

_The figure crouched next to him, smirk plastered across its face._

_Evan._

_“You didn't actually think we were friends did you?” He asked, laughing at the stunned look on Connor's face with a wordless reply. Slowly he raised the gun again._

_“Goodbye,” Evan said before a loud crack split through the air and he fell back into the darkness._

Connor shot out of bed, his heart racing and hands shaking. Blankets fell to the floor with his action. Air seemed to be in short supply as he tried to gulp as much as possible. Sweat matted his hair and he could feel the material of his shirt cling to his back. 

_It's just a dream_ , he told himself, but without much avail his breathing had yet to steady. 

He could feel a faint ghost of pain in his right thigh, and his head along with his chest pounded. 

The bedroom was dark, but not the crushing defeat of darkness he saw in his dreams. The moonlight seeped through the window illuminating the room. 

Slowly he worked on calming his breathing. Despite the small blurriness he tried to focus on objects in the room. His breathing mellowed out, but the pain was still there. His chest stung and he felt like a million tiny needles were being poked into his thigh. 

There was nothing there. Nothing. 

_It's just a dream._

~~~

“Operation Hot Topic is a go!” Jared said as Evan met him outside. Stupidly he had asked Jared for help because after watching Zoe snap at Connor this morning for not being home he couldn't stand the not knowing. It was obvious Connor was lying to him and in his moment of weakness he ran to Jared for help.

Things weren't the best with Jared. He still was pissed off about Evan forgiving Connor after he had punched him, but when Evan approached him with an opportunity to not only show him exactly who Connor was but also gather some dirt on the stoner outcast he was all for it. Of course Evan had no clue about Jared's agenda and simply thought he agreed to help because he knew he could write it off as hanging with Evan so his insurance gets paid. 

The plan was simple. Evan would invite Connor over, they would hang out, and Connor would leave just before six like he always did. Once Connor left, Jared and him would follow Connor to wherever he went. 

From what he could think of there was three ways of this going. First, they'd follow Connor and he'd end up going home like he said and Evan would feel immensely guilty for not believing in his best friend. Two, they'd follow him and he'd end up meeting Colton. He had been lying to himself for weeks saying he didn't care if Connor was hanging out with Colton, but he did, of course he did, because deep down he was jealous and if tonight he ended up seeing them together he didn't know how he would be able to handle that. The thought alone made his heart sink, but visibly seeing them he was afraid his already fragile heart would complete shatter like expensive china. And lastly, they'd mess up the plan. They'd follow to closely or Jared would yell something and then he'd have to explain to Connor why they were following him and that definitely wasn't going to end well. He'd end up demolishing Connor's trust and they might not even be friends after that because who would want to be friends with someone who doesn't trust them and ends up following them around town at night?

Naturally, he hoped for the first option but couldn't stop thinking of what he was going to find or see tonight. 

The first part went off with minimum hitches. Connor had suspected something was wrong because of how nervous Evan was when they got back from school. 

“You sure you're okay?” he asked for the umpteenth time that night. 

“Huh? Yeah. Im fine,” he replied, practically shoving Connor out the door. It was wrong, he knew it was, but he couldn't just blatantly say _‘Hey Con have you actually been going home to work on your relationship with your family or are you just lying to me?’_ because _that_ would surely go well. Connor's first instinct was to be defensive, and what meant to be a simple question would turn into this huge out of control fight. Evan had seen and been on the other end of Connor's outburst enough to know the last thing he wanted was to piss him off. And even if for some reason he had been stupid enough to asked he highly doubted Connor would be upfront about it after months of lying to him. So Jared and him came up with a plan to avoid the yelling and more potential lying, and yeah, maybe going to the extent of following someone was a bit ridiculous, but he felt like he didn't have another choice. 

All he wanted was Connor to feel safe enough to be honest with him. He had thought he had done a decent job in making sure Connor knew nothing he said or did was going to make Evan judge him for it but obviously Connor still felt the need to withhold the truth from him. So here he was; walking in step with Jared as the followed Connor down the block. They stayed far back to avoid being spotted, but Evan was worried it didn't matter how far their distance was Connor was going to hear Jared because he would _not_ stop talking. 

“What do you think we're gonna find? Think he'll lead us to his burial site where he disposes of all the baby animal he kills?” 

“Will you p-please shut up? Connor isn't a serial killer so can you stop,” Evan grumbled as they walked. 

“Okay okay, my bad,” Jared put up his hands like he had just been caught. “I won't bad mouth your boyfriend anymore.”

“C-can you just take this seriously?”

“I am! I am! I just-- what does it matter if he's shagging it up with someone else unless you--”

“It matters because he's my best friend and he's potential being lying to my face for over a month!” 

Jared was finally silent as they continued their walk. It only took five minutes before Evan realized they had passed Connor's block and… _oh god._

His mind was screaming _abort mission!_ Because it didn't matter anymore he had already gotten his answer. Connor had lied to him. Connor was lying to him and had been for weeks. Every single time with that bullshit _“things are starting to get better and I don't want to fuck it up”_ excuse. Evan was pissed. He couldn't understand why Connor was continuously lying to him about something so insignificant. All he had to say was _“Sorry Ev, I got other plans”_ and he would have been fine, but now knowing that Connor didn't even trust him enough to tell him the truth it… well it hurt. 

Evan, more or less, had been pretty transparent with Connor about everything, while Connor was.. not. And the more he thought about it the more he realized how secreted Connor really was. They had been friends for awhile, but Connor rarely talked about himself and the one time he did show Evan a side of him that wasn't the careless, tough-looking, bad boy facade he nearly tossed himself of a bridge. It got him thinking; did he even know Connor at all? Most of the things he learned about him was from observing, and whenever something was wrong Evan would have to fight tooth and nail for Connor to open up to him. Hell, he was pretty sure he didn't even know Connor's birthday. How had he been so oblivious this whole time to the walls Connor had put up? 

He hadn't even realized he stopped walking till Jared was standing in front of him waving his hand in his face, “Dude what the hell were going to lose him!”

Evan just shook his head because it didn't matter. None of it mattered. This whole friendship, or whatever it was, was one-sided. Connor never cared about him. He didn't, and somehow Evan had gotten it in his head that he mattered to Connor, that they were even friends, when they weren't. Because surely if they were actually friends, if he meant a damn thing to Connor, he wouldn't be lying to him about something as elementary as his whereabouts. 

He wanted to cry, but he also wanted to laugh because how could he be so stupid? Of course Connor didn't care about him. Of course he was just pitying Evan like everyone else. Of course Evan had thought there was something there, something real, because Evan was gullible and this, whatever this was, was just one big joke. It had to be.

Evan wanted to run. Part of him wanted to run up to Connor and ask him why he had been toying with him for months, if he ever met anything to him or was it simply just for his own amusement. The other half begged him to run the opposite way. Run back home and lock himself in his room till his mother eventually forced him out. And he was torn because there was this rush of emotions flooding through him and he wasn't sure if he was going to snap or burst into a blubbering mess. But right now he was this weird sense of numb. Normally he would have been unable to breath, unable to stop the thoughts from nagging him, unable to function, but now… now all he did was stand, frozen and numb because the one person he cared most about didn't trust him and that hurt. 

“Hello earth to Evan,” Jared interrupted. 

“I-uh-this… this is stupid let's just go home.”

“Are you serious? You came to me making it seem like this was life or death if you didn't figure out if that asshat is lying to you and you chicken out after a couple blocks?” Anger filling his voice. “C'mon,” he grabbed on Evan's arm, “let's go.”

Evan tugged, ripping his arm away from Jared's grasp. Pain meeting anger. And Evan ran. Because that's what he always does. 

He sprinted towards his house, shoes smacking loudly against the pavement with every step. The streets were empty and the sun had far since set. It was dark, cold, and empty like his thoughts consuming and dragging him down into the void. 

All he ever knew was this overwhelming blackness, and second by second he could see the little bit of light that had been there flicker out, fading as he was dragged back into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this done since Tuesday but for some reason it felt off? idk I kinda don't like this chapter so don't be surprised if I go back and edit it. es tut mir leid! 
> 
> thanks for reading! 
> 
> OH and we hit 100 kudos im???   
> I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the support on this mess of a fic ♡♡


	24. Diabolic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Jared is a meanie  
> or  
> the one where I see how many Going Viral references I can make.

The dream seemed to be a reoccurring thing for Connor. For the second night in a row he woke up drenched in his own sweat, heart rattling against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath. It was nearly identical to the one for last night. He had sought through the darkness only to be met with the blazing pain of a bullet in his thigh. Evan was still behind the trigger, same cold mischievous smirk on his face. The only difference tonight was there weren't any words. Evan just stood there, flashed a smile, and squeezed. And then Connor woke up. 

It was awful. The pain still lingered behind, a tingling sensation coursed through his thigh and his head was pounding upon waking up. He felt sick, his stomach twisting as he rushes to the bathroom barely making it to toilet before heaving. 

He spent the rest of the night on the cool tile floors feeling gross and sweaty; afraid that if he were to close his eyes he'd be met with the cylinder barrel once again. 

He wanted to stay home, but he really didn't feel like talking to Erik about why. He could just say he had a stomach thing, but then Erik would assign someone to stay with him today and he'd rather face the hellish hallways than being coddled all day. 

He took an long shower washing away the grim and sweat from the dream, hoping that it would somehow make him feel better, but it didn't. He felt the same hollow feeling in his chest, the small burn in his thigh, the dull throbbing of his head, and the twisting of his stomach. He felt disgusting.

He tossed his wet hair up not wanting anything to do with it today. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain grey hoodie. He finished getting ready before meeting Colton outside. They had turned off their street before Colton started talking. 

“What's going on with you lately?” Colton asked.

Connor ignored him, resting his head against the window. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone. 

“C’mon you didn't let me shut you out after everything so I'm not letting you do the same.”

Connor sighs, “Erik wants me to choose a sponsor.” It was a bit since Erik had brought it up during one of their meetings, and he had chose to ignore it. Erik wasn't pressing him about it but Connor didn't want to bring up the dream and have Colton pity him because he couldn't even sleep through the night. It wasn't a big deal. It had only been two days and there wasn't anything pointing to this being an actual problem so he'd keep it to himself like most of his problems.

“Oh. You got any ideas?” 

Connor shrugged letting his eyes shut as the radio filled the silence. 

_“This is all your fault,” a voice said. Then he was met with the silver barrel once again. The shot rang out and--_

Colton was shaking him lightly, “Did you fall asleep?” he asked. They were pulled up in front of the school, and Connor shuffled to grab his things. 

“You sure you're okay?” 

“Sure,” Connor replied shutting the car door behind him. He walked up the path to the building trying to shake off the brief flash of his nightmare. 

He headed straight to his first period class, collapsing into his usual seat in the back ten minutes before the class actually started. He wanted to sleep. He was exhausted from getting roughly four hours of sleep combined the past two nights, but he couldn't wield himself to shut his eyes. He feared what would happen if he did. 

Time passed and class had eventually started. His teacher rambled on for the entirety of the period. It was about as interesting as watching paint dry but Connor forced himself to focus, scared of the thoughts that might pop up if he let them wander. 

Eventually the bell rang and he shuffled out to his next class. He caught a glimpse of Evan and Jared talking in the hallway as he passed. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but for the looks there were no major red flags that suggested the conversation was anything more than two “family-friends” talking. Connor ignored it and walked to his next class. 

He hadn't figured out this whole dream thing. He had read in psychology last semester that reoccurring dreams typically happen during stressful times in someone's life. Connor’s life hadn't exactly been stable and it seemed everyday he had something new or worse to worry about. Whether it was about petty house drama or potential relapsing or questioning himself or getting mixed up with drug dealers, his life had basically been an unstoppable rollercoaster. He also read they are connected to unsolved problems in someone's life. He had a lot of problems, that was obvious, but his dream revolved around Evan so maybe that’s what he should be focusing on? 

There were a handful of problems in their relationship. One being Connor had been hiding the truth from him for months about the whole rehab thing. He hadn't told him yet and every day the guilt was eating at him. The other main problem was his feelings towards him. As much as he wanted to ignore them, put them in a box and shove them in the far back of his closet he couldn't. They were stronger than ever, so much to the point were he couldn't even sit next to Evan and watch a movie without thinking how adorable he was. It was ridiculous and cheesy, I mean c’mon! Guy falls for his best friend? I'm pretty sure the entertainment industry has been milking that story for years. 

He knew he shouldn't feel this way. It was wrong. On top of the whole “gay is a sin” thing, Evan was his best friend. He shouldn't… he definitely shouldn't be feeling this way towards him. But Evan was cute and easy to talk to so why was it wrong to feel this way? He liked Evan, he liked him so much it actually fucking hurt. He felt like he couldn't breathe around him, like he was drowning in the blue of his eyes whenever he caught his glance. And every time he shoved those feelings aside, let the voice tell him that his emotions were unjust, wrong, and unreciprocated it felt like he was getting crushed, or well… shot in the chest. 

Maybe that's was the mystery behind the dream? Maybe Connor's own subconscious was warning him against sharing his true feelings with Evan because it knew he would end up hurt after everything. It wasn't like Connor had the guts to ever tell Evan, but he was also reckless and impulsive, and what if one of these days he couldn't silence these feelings and acted out on them? Would he end up hurt like the dreams were suggesting? Or maybe it was the other way around? Maybe he would end up hurting Evan? But then wouldn't he be the one behind the trigger in his dream? 

He was wracking his brain with all these questions. Nothing seemed to make any sense. Maybe there wasn't any true meaning behind the dream? Maybe all it was was a stupid dream and he should just drop it before his brains actually explode from thinking so hard. 

To say school was boring was an understatement. He bounced from class to class unable to distract his worrying mind. He sat in art letting his pencil glide across the paper. It wasn't until the bell had rang that he actually noticed what he was drawing. He crumbled it up and tossed it in the trash on his way to his next class. He couldn't get the dream out of his mind, couldn't focus on anything except the silver steel barrel in his face. 

When lunch finally rolled around the craving for a smoke was tempting. It didn't matter that he was in his second month of rehab that wanting feeling always seemed to follow him, and it only got stronger when his life went to shit. Instead he strolled outside hoping the cold would numb his and his thoughts enough for him to at least finish his last two periods. Of course he supposed it was wishful thinking to ever get a break from everything. When he walked outside he was met with Jared. He sat on one of the benches outside scrolling on his phone. Connor didn't feel like dealing with Jared today, or ever really, and walked passed him hoping he was too engrossed in whatever he was doing and not notice Connor. Wishful thinking, right? 

“Connor!” Jared yelled, scrambling to try to catch up with him. Connor increased his pace hoping to lose the glasses-wearing boy. “You got a second?”

Connor shook his head, “nah.”

Jared finally caught up with him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back slightly. “Well make one,” he said sternly.

Connor rolled his eyes, shaking Jared's grip off of him, “Go fuck yourself Kleinman.” He continued walking down the sidewalk having no clue where he was headed. All he knew was he couldn't stay here and let Kleinman get to him. Again. 

“I know you're in rehab!” and that was enough to stop Connor where he stood. He froze feeling everything inside of him completely shatter. Because of course, of fricken course the one person who had the ability to completely destroy him now had the power to. Because Jared was Jared and he felt the only way to rise up was to bring others down. Majority of all rumors came from Jared and if you ever wanted something to spread like wildfire in this school you just had to talk to Jared. He didn't care about anyone other than himself, Connor was sure of it. He just did whatever made him look better while using whoever he needed to get there. It wouldn't be the first time Jared had started shit about Connor, the whole school-shooter thing was started by him with some bullshit story about how he “threw” a printer at his second grade teacher, but this.. If this got out he was fucked. Connor tried to steady his anger and force out a couple breaths before turning back to face him, and, boy, was he looking smug as ever watching as it got under his skin. 

“Pleasant Springs was it?”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Not important.” 

Impulsively Connor grabbed Jared by the collar of his shirt and shove him against the wall of the building. “I will fucking kill you if this gets out,” he threatens. 

Jared laughs, “You don't scare me Connor.” There's no fear in his eyes, but there certainly is in Connor's. This was bad. This was almost as bad as that stupid fucking nightmare. “So here is what's gonna happen Murphy,” Jared started pushing Connor away from him and straightening out his shirt, “You're going to do exactly what I say or I'll personally make sure this shit spreads like HPV.” 

“I'm not doing a damn thing for you.”

“Fine have it your way,” he shrugs. “I'm sure everyone will have a field day learning the school pyscho is actually just as fucked up as he's said to be.”

He wasn't really worried about what everyone at school thought of him. They already ran around saying horrible things about him, and sure, this would warrant more unwanted attention towards him but he's been dealing with these assholes for years now. There comes a time where you shut it out and allow yourself to go numb before it can hurt you. But then again he was worried because people were assholes and they look for the smallest reason to start shit with someone. This would draw attention to him and essential paint a target on his back for anyone who wants to feel a little macho. And again it wouldn't be the first time someone beat him up because they wanted to gloat about how they “put crazy connor in his place.” or to see if they could get him to snap. It was ridiculous, but it's high school and, well, they aren't the smartest batch of people. 

And of course he was full on freaking out about Evan finding out, and… _oh god._ What if Jared already told him? What if that's what they were talking about in the hallway early? Did Evan know? _oh no. nononono._ Evan can't know. Evan was the one good in his life and he couldn't lose him. He couldn't. 

“Does… does Evan know?”

“Well he thinks you're hooking up with that Colton kid, but he doesn't know about the loony bin you're in.”

He sighed out of relief. _Okay._ Evan didn't know, and he intended on keeping it that way. There's this saying _“Don't make a deal with the devil, if you do you will lose something important you once had.”_ To Connor the only important thing in his life was Evan, but he was too blinded by trying to protect Evan from himself that in that moment he didn't think of the consequences in giving into Jared's demands. He wanted to shield Evan from as much of his brokenness as possible and that meant making a deal with the devil. Or in this case the West Chesterfield High equivalence: Jared Kleinman. 

“First,” Jared started, “You're going to leave Evan alone.”

“What the hell is with your personally vendetta against Evan and I?” Connor asked. It seemed from the first moment Evan and Connor started becoming friends Jared has been somehow trying to sabotage it. 

“I'm trying to protect him.”

“Do you ever think maybe he doesn't need protecting? He's not a child Jared. He can choose who he wants to be friends with.”

“Oh? And you're not protecting him? I mean correct me if I'm wrong, but that's the whole reason why you haven't told him yet, right?” Jared took Connor's silence as a response in itself. “Exactly. So you're going to and if you as much as breathe in his general direction I will make your life hell.”

Connor didn't want to lose Evan but what other choice did he have? If he didn't stay away Jared was going to tell everyone and he would lose Evan anyways. There wasn't a winning chance for Connor. He lost either way in this situation. “Fine,” he mumbled.

"Good.” Jared turned and left, leaving Connor with a nearly impossible task in front of him. He was already on the verge of getting expelled and if Jared blabbed to the whole school it was most likely going to cause a shitstorm his way. Again he was screwed either way. He either did exactly what Jared wanted him to do and risk the chance of getting caught and expelled while also losing his best friend, or he went against Jared and let him tell the whole school how dysfunctional he is and again lose Evan in the process. He was stuck. He was trapped. And he was out of options.

The temptation came creeping in again. He couldn't control it. He didn't want to this time. Because everything was too much and all he wanted was the numb the crushing feeling he felt in his chest. To distract his aching brain for once. And maybe it was for the best because it's not like anyone would care if he just slipped back into being the monster everyone knew him as.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I didn't have such bad writers block and wasn't trash™ this chapter might be better. oops!
> 
> im dying squirtle.


	25. Unravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Connor is Done™

He walked out of a nearby 7-11 with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his hands. It was the second time since rehab he was in possession of something that could ruin all his progress. But this wasn't like the last time. No, Connor was strong back then and believed, with the help of Colton, things would change. News flash Old Connor! They never do! Same shit different day. This time he was weak, uncaring, and longing for something to dull the pain of losing the one person he's ever truly cared about. 

It was his fault. It always was, and deep down, all along, he knew he'd be the one to fuck up this friendship. He hated to admit he was right. It's just what he did. Connor ruins everything. It's been shown over and over again through the course of his life. 

He ruined his parents marriage for starters. They were happy until Connor started getting worse and now they can't even be in the same room without arguing. His mother would end up in tears and his father would either storm out of the house or to his study. They were broken, clinging to the last strand of their marriage because of Zoe and him with any love they once had slowly burning out. 

And then there was Zoe who he had also ruined. She was scared of him, knew what he was capable of and made her start thinking of what others had the potential to. She built up walls and pushed majority of the people away all because she was scared they'd end up hurting her like her brother did. 

There was a time where they were just brother and sister, where they'd play together and they only argued about Connor taking the blue crayon, but now that was all destroyed thanks to him. Now Zoe hated Connor, and rightfully so. Anyone who was put through the kind of emotional abuse Connor did to Zoe would. He was an asshole. He threatened to kill his own sister more than once, and sure he was high off his ass but that wasn't an excuse and it sure as hell didn't change anything. 

Zoe had said it countless times. He was a monster, and it didn't matter if he was high or sober he was still the same ruthless beast. 

And sometimes he wishes he could go back and be an actual brother and not something she feared. He wishes he can replace the tears after snapping at her with laughter, replace the nights she spent locked in her room because he was banging on the other side screaming about killing her with movie nights. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't just replace the years and years of suffering and abuse he put Zoe through and make everything better. He was still a monster. 

On top of ruining his family he ruined his friends. Surprisingly he wasn't always this social pariah. In junior high he had two friends: Jakob and Riley. The three of them were practically inseparable. They shared the same classes in which the teacher was never able to shut them up and they'd play at the park a lot after school. One day they were playing and a couple brainless juniors came around. They started teasing them, calling them babies, and shoving them to the ground. Connor was scared. They were much older than him and even though he was taller than most of his class these juniors towered over him. So he ran, leaving the people he called his friends to deal with the older boys. They never forgave him for ditching them. 

And when word got around school nobody even wanted to talk to him. He spent the next four years alone, progressively getting worse until he met Evan. He had walked out of fourth hour to get high when he saw Evan hugging his knees, crying on the floor of the bathroom. He looked absolutely terrified when he heard the door open and saw Connor there. His eyes were wet and around the right one was an already forming bruise. 

And Connor almost left. 

He wanted to get high not play the role of caring human being, but he ended up taking Evan to the nurse. He didn't remember his reasoning behind it or why he even stayed to help, maybe it was just pity, but either way that's how their whole friendship started. 

Connor was closed off and reserved most of the time. He regretted it but in the early months of their friendship he strongly believed Evan was going to leave any day. He protected himself no matter how many times Evan tried to pierce through one of his walls. And one day he showed Evan everything. The broken piece that made him. And Connor was so scared after he stepped off that bridge Evan was going to leave him, but he stayed. Evan, who probably wasn't even aware he was doing this, treated him like he was fragile after the bridge. And surely having Evan around was great, but things had changed between them and it didn't really seem like it was for the best. He kept to himself because he didn't want Evan to baby him. It was ridiculous, Evan cared about him and only wanted to help, but he never had people to depend on and habits are hard to break. 

Evan was concerned with the amount of drinking and smoking Connor did. It lead to one really nasty fight between the two. Again, Evan just wanted to help and Connor was being defensive. He didn't see it as Evan offering a hand, but more of an attack on him. He thought that was the end of them because his stupid brain was to dump to see how much Evan wanted the best for him. 

It took some time and a lot of apologies before they were back to how they were. Or somewhat how they were. They hung out at mostly Evan's house and before he even realized it he had a full-blown crush on his best friend. He was pretty sure it started when they were watching Hercules and Evan was softly singing to Go the Distance and Connor thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. 

So naturally with these new feelings he felt wrong. He still hung out with Evan just not everyday like they once were. He got high and black out drunk a lot more until he was tossed into the program. And then everything started to get worse and then better and back to worse. He was embarrassed and cut himself off from Evan and eventually found his way back to him only to have Jared show up and force him away. 

For the past couple months Connor has been purposely driving himself away from Evan because of the whole rehab plus crush thing and things were starting to finally balance out between hanging out and rehab. And then enter Jared. 

He's done nothing but hurt Evan since. He's pushed Evan away and no matter what he always came back. It was becoming impossible to keep ignoring him. Every time he'd spot Evan in the hall he'd slip into the closest classroom or walk the other way. He even so much as went and blocked Evan on his phone because seeing the concerned messages was too much. He wanted to text back, let Evan know none of this was his fault and that he was so thankful for everything he's done to him Connor, but he couldn't. Jared had leverage on him and as long as that held true Connor would just have to keep digging himself into his grave. 

And real Evan was only half of his problem. He still hadn't shaken dream Evan yet. It had been nearly two weeks and they were escalating. They started with Evan pointing the gun at Connor and soon turned into Evan using it on himself. He would have to stay, holding dream Evan in his arms until his body snapped him out of dream. He could feel the cool, sticky blood on his hands when he woke up, but they were always clean. He was still waking up in a panic, sweating, but now tears also stained his cheeks like they did in the dream. 

It was beginning to become hard to close his eyes because he knew what laid ahead. Most of the night he forced himself to stay up all night or as long as he could. Caffeine was barely keeping him awake anymore and it was becoming more and more of a struggle to keep calm when he was getting little to no sleep for days. He knew he was just going to crash eventually but the thought of holding his bloody friend, dream or not, was enough to spook him into trying not to live in that nightmare. 

He was on edge most of the time now and it was causing his to struggle not only in school but in rehab. He was exhausted and every little thing seemed to annoy him. Erik was poking too much trying to figure out what was wrong and Connor would just snap. He felt like he was back at his house, but instead of being high he was running off badly made coffee and whatever energy his body had left. 

He couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate, couldn't speak to someone without snapping at them, and couldn't be around the one person who made him feel okay. 

Needless to say he was falling apart. Things were about as bad as when he was standing on the bridge, if not worse. He didn't even try to silence the voice in his head anymore. All his energy was being spent trying to stay awake and he didn't have anything left to force them out. 

The pack of cigarettes felt like a brick in his hand. He had been here the day he basically sold his soul to Jared, but he couldn't walk through the doors of the convenience store. He was weak, still in the mindset that maybe someone would care if he slipped. Every day after that it was apparent no one did. Or well they pretended they did. 

He should have jumped that night. He shouldn't have let Evan convince him he mattered when he knew it was all a bunch of lies. He should have carried out his plan and that way none of this would even be happening. He wouldn't have to deal with reporting daily to some counselor or wonder if Jared was going to end up leaking the disaster that was Connor Murphy. He wouldn't have to deal with fake people pretending to care or stupid feelings for a boy with a radiating smile that makes his heart skip. He wouldn't have to deal with dreams haunting him or temptations. He would simply be dead. 

Of course his thoughts only got darker as he stood outside the building. His brain started battling itself as he walked down the sidewalk tearing off the plastic from around the box. 

Nothing matter. Sobriety didn't matter. He didn't matter. Nothing matter. 

Not anymore that was.

Because after tonight Connor Murphy would cease to be, and truthfully it was for the best. At least he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorty because much like Connor I am also Done™
> 
> Next chapter is an Evan chapter so that should be fun...
> 
> stay gold my buds,, thanks for reading♡♡


	26. wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Evan questions if Connor ever was a good person.

A while back towards the beginning of the school year and the beginning of Connor and Evan's friendship Heidi had caught Evan sneaking in at nearly 3 a.m. Her classes had been canceled that night and she thought it would be a good idea for her and her little guy to order take out, watch a movie, and catch up since lately she has been missing so much of her son's life. When she came home to an empty house she nearly called the cops because Evan would never leave without informing her of it before. She was worried sick. She must have called his phone a hundred time, each being sent to voicemail immediately, and texted him the same. She even called Jared who was no help, telling her he hadn't heard from Evan since third hour that day. Most of that night was spent pacing back and forth in the kitchen and on the phone with nearby family members, and right before Heidi lost all her composure and broke down she heard the sound of the door. It was something she never thought she'd be grateful to hear. It was just keys in the door, but after hours of no response from her son it was like children hearing the ice cream truck. 

And Evan just froze like a deer in the headlights waiting for the 2 ton car to ram into him when he saw his mother home let alone still up and waiting for him. She was mad, disappointed maybe, but she was more happy her son was home and not up to no good or something worse. 

Evan had come home reeking of booze because some drunken bastard ended up spilling it on him, and of weed because that's usually the cost of spending time with Connor Murphy. 

He claimed he couldn't function without being high, and that he didn't like the person he was when he wasn't. It spilled one day when his walls were crumbling along with his mental state. 

_"Why do you smoke?" Evan asked, sitting on Connor's bed watching as the other boy put a cigarette to his lips and lit the other end._

_With a puff of smoke he exhaled, "because it's an escape away from myself."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I don't like who I am sober, but I'm also scared of who I become when I'm high."_

_"So why do you still do it?"_

Connor didn't answer any more questions after that. It was always like that. Where Connor would for just a brief moment open up to Evan before shutting down. 

And it was the same as that night where Evan had slipped in late at night. It was frustrating. Spending all that time with someone and feeling like they don't even trust you. It sucked. But it was Connor and Connor was a tough one to crack so he much rather take any information that slipped through the cracks than none at all. 

Heidi sat Evan down that night and let him explain the events of that night. How Connor had called him during one of his many Netflix binges and dragged him out of the house because he couldn't stand his family anymore. How Connor had claimed they needed to make a pit-stop first. One that consisted of showing up at a party where Connor's dealer was. How Evan had argued with Connor about not wanting to go inside and how Connor as informed him he was much safer inside than alone in the car. How he followed Connor into the crowded house and hoped he'd keep his promise of leaving as soon as he got what he came for. How upon navigating the party he noticed Connor had left him behind and only then did he realize how much he stuck out. He couldn't breathe. In the mix of frantically searching for his friend some dude pushed someone else into him and the drink in his hand ended up all over the front of Evan's shirt. The drunk dude yelled at him and told him to watch where he was going as if Evan had any control in someone being pushed into him. And the guy, who was too drunk for his own good, was sizing Evan up till Connor reappeared and grabbed him by the wrist and forcefully tugged him back to the car. 

_"I leave you alone for two minutes!" Connor scoffs, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the car door shut rather harshly._

_"It-it wasn't my fault I-I- he bumped into me!"_

_"whatever," Connor reached over and grabbed something from the glove box. It wasn't till it was to Connor's lips and lit by a warm orange flame that Evan realized what it was._

_The ride was silent. Uncomfortably so. Connor had a small habit of tapping the steering wheel as he drove. Evan had picked up on it a while back, but tonight Connor's fingers stayed gripped on the steering wheel. His face was blank and it left Evan's stomach writhing because it was too blank. too calm. It was the kind of expression he had seen Connor wear in the halls back when they didn't know each other. Back when Connor Murphy was just the crazy lunatic that everyone was afraid of. It was a practiced look, one Connor had spent years mastering to hide what he was actually feeling, that at first glance seemed casual, one that wouldn't cause any red flags or would have someone running the opposite direction in fear of being torn apart. It was neutral. blank. And it was only upon actually getting to know him that Evan knew something big was rattling inside his brain._

_And that scared Evan._

_"What happened?" Evan asked breaking the silence._

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"With your parents. What happened?"_

_"Same shit," he shrugged taking another drag. Evan didn't like how his hand left the wheel, how despite knowing how uneasy drugs made Evan feel Connor did it anyways. He knew he couldn't change Connor, but he wished that he'd stop driving while high. He couldn't focus on anything other than the looming thought of crashing. And his anxiety sure as hell wasn't helping the situation. "I don't know Ev..it's like they try but as soon as shit gets too real or too challenging they pull the rug out from under my feet. They think they can just throw money at a problem and it's fixed, but it doesn't matter what they put me on or who they send me to I can't instantly get better and they are sick of trying."_

_"My mom was like that," Evan said. "When I first went on my meds I was okay I guess and one night I-I left my math book at school and I just freaked out. My mom found me in hysterics and was like 'I thought you were getting better Ev' and- I don't know it was like she couldn't see that meds and therapy weren't a solution but more of one step in a series of many."_

Evan finished telling his mother the events of that night with many apologies. He never meant to make her worry. The nagging voice in the back of his skulled laughed, _"that's all you ever do."_ Heidi gave him a weeks worth of grounding. Having never dished out one she had no idea what was a reasonable time length. And right before dismissing him she gave him some advice he ignored until now. He had thought it was simply just words without meaning, that it would never apply to him. 

She said, "Nothing good happens after midnight. When it's passed midnight just go home and go to bed because the decision you make after are the wrong one." 

And Evan never questioned it. Never revisited those words till tonight when he was sitting up in bed staring at his phone as it flashed an incoming call from Zoe Murphy. Apparently during one of the few visits to the Murphy household they must've exchanged numbers or perhaps Connor put it in one night because now he had it save as a contact. His mother's words hung in his head, _nothing good happens after midnight._ The clock at the top of his phone displayed 02:24. It was far too late for any good news and especially since it was from Zoe. A girl he barely knew and who barely knew him. His mind immediately went to Connor because why else would Zoe be calling him? They shared nothing in common that he knew of and he always got the feeling Zoe didn't like him very much. 

He could pretend to be asleep. It wouldn't come off as mean would it? Most people aren't up at 2 a.m. so he could just say he slept through the call and text her in the morning. But then his thoughts started nagging him like usual. Because Zoe wouldn't call him unless something was wrong. He accepted the call.

"Evan," she choked out upon him putting the phone to his ear. Immediately his stomach twisted, nervous and concerned, at the sound of Zoe crying. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"N-no it's okay! uh- what's up?" he cringed at how he sounded. 

"Connor he--" a broken sob fell from her lips. "We all.. we all thought he was getting better and--"

"Is he okay?"

"Can you come over?" she asked.

"Come over?" he repeated, confused by the request. "As in to your house?"

"Yes."

_The decisions you make after midnight are always the wrong ones._

He shoved those voices away. This was Connor. Well it was Zoe but by the sounds of it Connor wasn't okay or worse. He could be hurt. Evan didn't know but he needed to find out. He told Zoe he'd be there soon and exited his bedroom as quietly as possible. He slipped on his shoes and started his walk to the Murphy's. He could have taken the car. He did know how to drive but he would probably make more noise starting the car and the last thing he wanted was his mother questioning where he was going at 2 in the morning. 

The air was brisk but that was expected from a January night. He shoved his hands in his pocket and walked with his head down till he reached the Murphy house. It was the only house on the block with lights still on. Hesitantly he knocked on the front door. Zoe swung open the door almost instantly and wrapped him into a hug. He nearly toppled backwards at the sudden action. 

Zoe pulled away after a couple seconds, wiping the tears from her face. Even with puffy red eyes she still looked pretty. The Murphy siblings must be naturally beautiful, Evan thought. 

"Sorry," she smiled softly. "Thanks for coming." She moved so Evan could enter the house and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as his saw the interior. His heart sank like stone to the bottom of the water. Broken glass from picture frames and vases littered the floor. The wall had holes the size of Evan's head in them. It looked like a tornado had struck the center of the room, tearing up everything and leaving a horrible mess behind it. 

"What happened?" Evan asked turning towards Zoe.

"Connor he... he came home high and just started yelling and breaking shit."

"oh my god," Evan mumbled under his breath.

"I've seen Connor pissed before but this," she paused, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair. "I've never seen him like this." 

"Is he- are you alright?" he asked. He could focus on Connor later but for now he had to be here for Zoe. 

"Yeah. My dad got the worse of it. Connor straight up punched him in the face and now he's got a broken cheekbone."

"D-do you know what set him off?" Evan asked. Connor and him haven't exactly been on speaking terms. For reasons unknown to him Connor had been avoiding him. It wasn't the first time Connor had ghosted him, so he shouldn't really be surprised, but this time something was different. He couldn't exactly place what it was, but every time he'd see Connor in the hallway his eyes would always flash something of what looked like pain before turning the opposite direction and ducking through crowds away from Evan. Maybe he wanted Connor to miss him as much as he did, or maybe it was all in his head, but it did look like shutting Evan out was hurting Connor. 

He had tried to apologize, tried to simply just talk to him, but Connor was avoiding him. At first he thought it was just his worrisome brain overthinking it, that maybe somehow Connor had noticed them trailing behind him and now he was pissed off and hated Evan, but the more it occurred the more it seemed less coincidental and more on purpose. He even tried catching up to Connor even though his classes were the opposite way. Connor just ended up slipping into some random classroom and before he could follow suit a teacher was scolding him for being late to class. 

His texts went unread and without a reply, and the couple of calls he made went automatically to a robot lady telling him the caller he was trying to reach doesn't have a voicemail set up. 

And it didn't help that the only time he had talked to Connor this week was when he was yelling at him.

_"Connor!"_

_"I can't do this Evan," he said slamming his locker shut going to head off down the hallway._

_Evan grabbed his wrist before he could leave, "why won't you just talk to me?"_

_"Maybe it's because I don't fucking like you Evan!" he spat, shaking out of Evan's grip. "Just leave me the fuck alone," he finished before bumping shoulders with Evan and storming down the hallway._

Evan, who nearly toppled over from being shoulder checked by Connor, regained his balance but simply stood in the same spot as the words echoed in his head. It wasn't until the crawling feeling of eyes on him surfaced that he was able to draw himself back to reality. He ended up sprinting to one of the bathrooms and locking himself inside. He coached himself through his panic attack and when all was done he shuffled to the nurses and went home for the day. 

His therapist told him to write a letter to Connor but he had gotten the message. Loud and clear. Connor wanted nothing to do with him and chasing after him would only prolong the heartache he was bound to feel for losing his best friend. So instead of writing the letter and reaching out he stopped trying to get Connor to talk to him, stopped sending him messages apologizing for whatever he did wrong, and he pretended like none of this was bothering him, that he was fine, and that everything was fine because he didn't care that Connor wanted nothing to do with him. And now looking around seeing the mess he had created he was starting to think pretending everything was fine was the wrong thing to do. Maybe if he had tried harder he could have avoided people getting hurt.

"I don't know he just came home screaming about how this family was built on lies and next thing I know the cops are dragging him out of here."

"Wait he got arrested?" 

Zoe shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, "Neighbors called the cops for a noise complaint. They saw Connor losing his shit and took him in."

"oh my god," he said again. "what's going to happen to him?"

"He's on assault and battery charges now just depends if my father wants to press them or not."

"Could he--"

She cut him off already knowing what he was going to ask, "he's nearly 18. He'd be tried as an adult most likely." 

Evan felt like his head was going to explode. He couldn't wrap his head around his best friend potentially going to prison. He knew Connor was struggling. He knew Connor had anger issues. He'd seen it first hand, but just like Zoe had said on the phone he thought he was getting better. He took another glance at the disaster in front of him.

Clearly not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the 2k hits ♡


	27. Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Zoe and Evan talk   
> or   
> the one where the author didn't know what to write so have a stupid filler

He has gotten used to eating alone. All his years in high school he sat in the computer lab or when it wasn't too cold and he had gotten his upperclassmen privileges of leaving the campus he sat against one of the trees near the tennis courts. Things were different when Connor was around. He would always tag around which then would mean Jared would also tag along because "if he goes berserk on you I'll be there to defend you." The jester itself was nice, Evan supposed, but Jared and Connor together was just a bad time. They were constantly at each other's throats because Jared had no filter and Connor couldn't control himself when someone got under his skin. 

It lead to many, many arguments and it always left a bad taste in his mouth when he left to go to his next class. Connor would trudge off pissed, most likely skip his classes, and ignore everyone for the rest of the day. And Jared he would just walk away, shoulders high with the biggest smile on his face like he had just placed first in a fortnite match. 

And then everything went back to how it was in junior year. Evan sat alone under a tree doing homework and munching on pretzels because Jared didn't care unless he could get something out of it, and Connor... well Connor was having his own problems. 

But Evan was fine with it. Years spent being alone, both in school and at home, had conditioned him well. Although the transition from having someone to talk to during lunch for nearly 5 months was a little strange. 

It was a Tuesday, two days since Zoe had called him and unloaded the mother bomb that was Connor. He had no updates on it whatsoever, and as much as he wanted to ask Zoe in the hallways she looked happy laughing with her friends and he didn't want to ruin it by bringing up something that would clearly bring her down. 

He had went home Sunday night and spent the rest of the night googling punishments for assault and battery. Apparently it all depended on if one, he was getting charged, and two, if it was a minor or felony. When he read his best friend could end up serving 1 to 3 years his stomach dropped. 

He would be a junior in college when he would see Connor next if it was worse case scenario. That being if Connor even wanted to talk to Evan. Or remembered him. 

He had heard it that prison changes people. What if in three years Connor had changed so much that the guy he once knew was completely gone?

And then there was a lingering thought of Connor being actually gone. Prison isn't the safest place and with Connor's uncontrollable outburst he might find himself in trouble and well it would be the first time a incident has happened in lockup. 

Before his mind completely went out of control his alarm went off for school and with closing his laptop he forced himself to stop thinking about the what ifs and just wait for someone to tell him what was actually going to happen. 

He was deep in concentration doing his homework that he didn't notice Zoe approaching, didn't even notice till she was sitting down next to him on the grass. 

"Hey."

"H-hey. What's up?"

she shrugs, "Not a whole lot. Didn't feel like sitting inside today."

"Oh," he says, fiddling with the corner of the paper with his homework on it. He doesn't know what else to say. Would it be weird to pick a topic? They weren't friends so what even was Evan to change the topic to? Connor? It was kind of embarrassing how much of his life revolved around Connor. 

Zoe did the honors of talking again, "My dad dropped the charges."

"oh that's... good?" To him it seemed like a good thing. Connor wouldn't have to serve any time or potentially end up being someone's bitch. That made him breath a bit easier. 

And then all the cogs in the machine seemed to line up. Connor getting released wasn't so much of a good thing for Zoe. 

It never really was a big secret how much Zoe Murphy hated her brother. It also wasn't a secret, to Evan at least, that she was scared of him. And he couldn't stop picturing how Connor had snapped at Zoe one of the times he was over and she flinched backwards, terrified her brother would do more than just raise his voice at her. He had seen the fear in her eyes behind the forming tears as Connor inched towards her. How she sighed in relief as Evan tugged him away and seemingly somewhat calmed him down. 

Zoe was scared of Connor and after many years of his outburst and the events of Sunday it was clear how much having Connor back home would not end well for anybody. 

Not that prison was a better alternative that is, but..

Zoe sighed planting her hands behind her to keep herself upright and staring at the sky above them. It was cloudy, but no hint in looking like it was about to storm. Lately there had been too many rainy days so he was thankful that it was somewhat nicer out today. "I think the worse part about all of this was knowing Connor wasn't even high during it."

Evan paused, air getting trapped in his throat, "r-really?"

"Nope. Completely clean."

He supposed that was a good thing. Maybe Connor truly was getting better, and Sunday was just a slip up. A really big slip up. In fact he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Connor high. The times he spent around him the last month or so, which were not to frequent, but none of them involved him being high. Evan had brushed it off as a good day and didn't think much about it till now.

Was Connor trying to quit? Was he trying to get better?

Perhaps all the progress Connor made Evan had failed to see. 

Now thinking about it there was definite changes in Connor recently. One being he seemed to quit smoking, and maybe drinking. He wasn't showing up to school stoned or cranky as he tried to recover from a killer hangout. In fact Connor's attendance has been pretty impressive recently. Evan would see him more around the halls especially towards the end of the school days now. 

His anger still was there. That hadn't really changed. He had punched Jared and destroyed his house, and who knows how many other outbursts he had since. 

Anger was always going to be a problem with him. He refused to actually see anyone for it, and for a long time he had been using depressants as his coping mechanism. Connor had told him that he was tired of being angry all the time, tired of overreacting to the smallest things, and maybe changing different parts of his life he thought he could fix or somewhat control his outburst. 

Evan was happy Connor was trying, disappointed he hadn't noticed it till he had shattered. 

He heard Zoe start to laugh. It wasn't the sweet soft laugh he would overhear in the halls when Zoe and her friends would walk by, but it was more cynical than that. dry and venomous almost. 

It kind of scared him seeing a side of Zoe that was so broken. so frail and vulnerable. He felt like he was overstepping simply by being present. Like this was too personal and he shouldn't even be here in the first place. 

"god, I am such an idiot," Zoe laughed softly to her herself as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "This whole time I thought he was a decent person. That he gotten lost within all the drugs, but no, no apparently he's always been a fucking monster."

To her horror, she felt her eyes start to well up in frustration. Evan noticed them quickly face dropping to utter terror in under a second. 

"oh gosh, oh no," Evan's hands fluttered uselessly in the air. He looked around for some sort of lifeline or something that would help him as he wracked his brain on how to get Zoe to stop crying. 

"I'm pathetic aren't I? After everything and I still care about him," she shakes her head. "I should hate him, but I can't bring myself to."

"He's your brother."

"Yeah, he's my brother," she said softly almost whispering it to herself. Zoe was hurting. It probably wouldn't be that much of a reach to say the whole Murphy family was as well. 

Zoe and him spent the rest of the period in relative silence. Zoe seemed to have calmed down since. Her face was dry and she just sat idly tapping on her phone, humming. Spending time with Zoe he noticed the similarities between the two siblings. 

The bell rang and Zoe shot him a small appreciative smile as she headed back in the building. Evan shoved his notebook before following her actions. Once he slipped inside the building he was quickly met by Jared.

"Okay, I know I did not just see you of all people with Zoe Murphy."

"oh uh yeah," he thought of the first lie he could think of. "She wanted to practice her lines for the spring uh play."

"And why would she go to you?" he asked, raising a brow. 

Evan chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, "Oh uh she said, she wanted an honest opinion and didn't think I had the heart to lie to her."

Jared looked at him and everything in Evan was telling him that he knew. That Jared had read right through his lie and he was about to get in trouble. And then Jared shrugged, "makes sense. For a moment there I thought you were finally pursuing Zoe."

There was a brief moment in Sophomore year where Zoe had helped him collect himself after some football jocks pushed him to the ground. From there he had liked Zoe. She was nice and helpful and just absolutely stunning. The feelings faded over the summer during his time at Ellison and when he came back he didn't have stupid little butterflies when she passed by. 

And then he met Connor and those stupid little butterflies were back. 

"I don't- I mean I don't really like her like that anymore."

"So you're finally done with the Murphy's, huh?" Jared laughed. "It was about time. That whole family is a bunch of nut jobs." 

Evan sighed as he entered class. After his conversation with Zoe he didn't believe Jared's words. Zoe was perfectly nice and Connor was trying. It was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at work on like Thursday and been battling the servers since trying to update. archive wyd? 
> 
> thanks for reading ♡


	28. Therapy Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Connor is a lil broken boy.  
> TW: panic attacks, mentions of blood.

He had no idea why Erik let him back in the house. Technically he hadn't broken any house rules, expect maybe curfew, but then again there wasn't really much he could do about that one. While Erik might have not been too happy upon hearing Connor was in possession of cigarettes, he hadn't relapsed, so he only counted it as half a strike. This would tack on to the already existing other two strikes he had, and Erik, very seriously and sternly, pressed about how as soon as Connor got his third and final strike he was getting kicked out. He had been lenient before with Connor, but now with everything he was on very very thin ice and every move Connor made was being watched. 

Everyone in the house was scared of him. It was painfully obvious by how they would drop all conversation when he walked in the room and moved out of his way like he was infected with some plague. Colton was trying to make it seem like nothing was different, like he still accepted Connor and all his flaws, but there were times were Connor could see him hesitate or second guess himself simply because he didn't want to be the one who set Connor off again. He would much rather Colton treat him like the monster he is then pretend everything was fine. 

At school it was all the same. The board had all been alerted about Connor's outburst, and more than ever people were being wary of him. He understood why. He wouldn't want to be around nor would he feel safe around someone who had exploded like that on his own family, but since he hadn't done anything on school grounds they couldn't really do anything but watch. And wait. 

It was like the whole world held this unearthly silence that had them all biting their tongues and waiting for the first crash, for the day Connor would explode again. Both at Pleasant Springs and school. And it was beyond fucking annoying. 

Because he knew he would.

And he hated it. He hated the burning feeling on the back of his neck as everyone's eyes fell on him. Somehow it was worse than when it was just the student body. He could, somewhat, handle that. He had years of being stared down in the hallway like a freak to know when to just lower his head and move on, but when it was faculty, grown fricken adults that were scared of him, it lingered on his skin and creeped deep into his brain, settling there till his thoughts got too dark and would surface only to remind him just how much of a monster he truly was. 

Along with the unwanted attention he also now had to suffer with less privileges. He didn't really have a right to complain, he fucked up, but he just wished it didn't entitle him to be cleaning the bathrooms floor again for the next month, and losing his phone again, and the freedom of actually leaving the house other than to go to school and these stupid anger management classes that he was mandated to attend twice a week. 

If he thought group sessions at Pleasant Springs was bad, _ho boy_ , he had another thing coming. 

He was pretty sure the teacher got his notes or "tips" from a fucking wikihow. They were stupid _"think before you speak"_ and _"avoid placing blame by using I sentences"._ After just one session he realized those are so much easier said than done. He doubted anyone in an argument is going to throw out the "when you.. I feel" crap. It was stupid and unrealistic and definitely not helpful when it comes to controlling someone's anger. 

In fact, most of the time he spent trying to bite back the urge to punch the instructor in the face. There was some irony in that, he was aware, but nothing he "learned" from the sessions was helping him prepare for the next time he felt like exploding. He began to wonder if his anger was even controllable or if he was always just going to have to life with this fiery burning hatred in his chest. 

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to fix himself, he did, but when none of the advice he received was helpful in the slightest, he felt stuck. Listening to someone go on and on for an hour about the do's and don'ts in an argument and the dumb group activities all seemed too simplified, too foolish, too impractical, and not in the least bit useful. 

In addition to the classes, Erik had him going to an actual therapist because apparently one could never have too much help. It was exhausting actually. Attending anger management classes and then going to talk about his seemingly never ending problems followed by, you guess it, more talking in group sessions and his one-on-ones. It was overwhelming at times. Everyone was expecting Connor to basically be an open book at this point, to let them poke and prod around through his brain to figure out how to "fix" him. And as for someone who has never been open about himself with anyone, not even to the person he considered to be his best friend, it was strange and difficult to talk about himself to a complete stranger. Especially to someone who required to report anything he deemed harmful to Connor himself or to another directly to Erik and also his parents. That hung over him majority of their session. It caused him to withhold information or bit his tongue before he shared something that would definitely land him in some psych ward. 

He hated it. He hated all of it. He hated talking to people whose only interest was putting money in their pocket. He hated the lingering stares and the neutral expression on his therapist face as he pressed for more information. He hated the fact that everyone, including himself, was absolutely terrified of what he would do next. He hated not being able to control his emotions. Hated not being a normal high school kid whose biggest problem was passing a statistics test, but instead he was forced to overcome an addiction, overcome his anger issues, and overcome an undiagnosed mental illness that had him wanting to rip through his flesh from the moment he woke up. But more than that he hated not being in control of his life, of having himself stripped away and examined like some damn lab rat every single day.

"I want to try something a little different today," his therapist had said. He was a middle aged man, long nose, weasel-like eyes, greasy hair that was combed over an obvious bald spot that took up half his head. He wore a simple blue button up that was tucked into a pair of black slacks. Professional, but not over the top. He looked paler than the last time Connor had seen him, though, and he was holding a thick folder filled with probably more than a dozen of messily stacked papers and a small black notebook in the brook of one elbow as he took his seat across from the young teen. He settled, not bothering much with greeting him, before he flipped to a new page in his notepad. "I want you to close your eyes." 

“Why?” Connor grumbled, crossing his arms over each other. To a fault, he was as stubborn as they came. He didn't appreciate much when people told him what to do, but then again everything in his life now was dictated by someone else who only claimed to have Connor's best interest at mind. 

“Just trust me on this.”

If he had gotten just a bit more sleep he might have been more eager to pursue an argument, that would inevitably have Connor doing exactly what his therapist wanted because he knew how to work inside his mind, but at least then he could drain some time off their session and not be agonizingly bored throughout it. Hesitantly, Connor followed. "Okay, I know this may sound a little dark and morbid, but I want you to picture yourself at your funeral. Focus on who would be there, what they would say. Can you do that for me?" 

Connor simply just nods, even though half of him feels like bolting it out the doors and never returning to any of this while the other wants to burst out in laughter at the absurdity. Imagine your own funeral? Are you kidding me? What kind of certified "doctor" tells a minor to imagine themselves dead when the whole reason they are there in the first place is because their a suicidal ticking time bomb? It's ridiculously hilarious to him. But nonetheless he closes his eyes because he can't afford another lecture about how he's wasting Dr. Dubois time because he's not being honest and productive in his sessions. He rather smash his skull through drywall before he'd sit through that again. 

In the beginning there's a lot of arguing in the small office room. Connor was having a hard time picturing anything but the darkness from his enclosed eyelids. He doesn't want to be here and he certainly doesn't want to be picturing a fake funeral when he'd rather just have a god damn real one for himself. He assumed it wouldnt be a problem. As long as it seemed like he was playing along he could get away with just bullshitting his way through it, but Dr. Dubois caught on fast and ensured him the only way he could help is if Connor allowed him to, and the only way Connor could recover and be on the track to becoming his best possible self was through their sessions. 

He wanted to throw up every time his therapist mentioned self actualization. Maslow was an idiot for thinking that as long as your basic and psychological needs were fulfilled that as a person one could truly reach full potential. 

So after a mere waste of a good ten minutes trying to talk Connor into actually seeing what Dr. Dubois wanted he was sitting, well not him physically but his self conscious self was sitting in one of the far back rows of a chapel. His subconscious self scanned the area. He would have laughed at the obserity if he wasn't somewhat already freaking out about how easily his therapist could manipulate him to see things. Maybe manipulate wasn't the right word, but still even if they weren't real it left an unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

The architecture was incredible from the high beam, to the intricate woodwork, and the stained glass windows with images of figures he'd probably know if he ever paid attention when his parents would drag him to mass when he was younger. It was stunning. He almost applauded himself for creating such a lovely place in his head till his eyes fell on the wooden box in front of him. 

There were flowers on top of the coffin. If he asked Evan he might've known what kind they were but all Connor saw what white petals and a stem perched on top of what was his coffin. 

It felt strange. He'd been feeling like death was the only escape for years and yet sitting in this imaginary funeral for himself felt like a rock in his gut. 

The doors swung open to the chapel, a bright light from the day outside poured in as the people stumbled in. The first to enter were his parents. 

Cynthia was crying, a tissue crumpled up against her face behind a black veil. Larry was on his side, their arms locked together as they walked down the aisle. He wore the grey suit he wore to the daddy daughter dance with Zoe when she was younger. The only reason he remembered that was because he had taken the coat while Larry was busy and ran around the house pretending to be a lawyer. His parents thought it was adorable the way it completely engulfed his nine year old self, while Zoe just stomped complaining that they were going to be late because of him. It was a stupid thing to remember, he doubted Larry even remembered when he decided to pull that suit out of his closet this morning, but for some reason it stuck with him. 

His parents sat in the front row of the chapel, Connor's self conscious self sitting a couple rows behind them. He could hear his mother crying as she turned and buried her face into her husband's chest. 

Zoe was next to walk into the building. Connor couldn't figure out why the three of them didn't arrive together, but he shrugged it off. Zoe was Zoe. She might play the innocent sweetheart act, but she doesn't take shit from anybody. He was happy she was here. He was happy his brain thought even for a moment his sister actually cared about him. 

Unlike his mother, she wore a navy blue dress and had her hair braided to the side. She wore the smallest bit of makeup, but even then Connor could still see the puffiness under her eyes.

It felt like a punch in the throat. 

He had put her through so much, and still even now his fake dead dream self was still causing her pain. He hated it. He hated himself. She shouldn't feel bad about Connor's death. In fact if she showed up here with a boombox and confetti streamers he wouldn't have been all too surprised. He was horrible to her, and she had every right to not give a damn about him. But it was the fact that his own self created her attendance and allowed her to seem like she was putting on a brave act that made him completely question Zoe's feeling towards him. Maybe his brain knew something he didn't? 

_"Connor would have wanted to be cremated,"_ Zoe said, picking off her nail polish. If anything it was one of the few ticks they shared in common. When ever they were bored or anxious they would always chip away at the color on their nails. 

_"We're not cremating your brother Zoe,"_ Larry responded clearly annoyed with the whole situation. Of course a funeral would only be more of a burden on them. Even from beyond the fake dream grave he was still fucking his family over. 

The doors opened again and Connor looked over his shoulder to see who had entered. It was some extended family he probably met once at some family event Cynthia had planned, but was too high or too busy recovering from a hangover to remember any of them. He knew his Aunt Cathy and her douchebag of a son Nick who was nothing more than a pretentious dick that Connor ended up punching because of his disgusting comments about Zoe. 

He rolled his eyes at their presence. His mother probably called them and invited them because surely he didn't want them there. They all approached his parents and offered them condolences. There was too many hugs and too many crocodile tears from people who literally couldn't even tell you what color his eyes were. 

People from school showed up. Again, he only recognized some, but none of them he knew or knew him. The kid he was chemistry lab partners with was there. Connor couldn't remember his name probably because he didn't show up to that class and when he did he'd make his lab partner do all the work while he took a nap. There was people he'd see in the hall whispering tumors about him but never actually talk to him. And then there was one he actually recognized: Alana Beck. She was his English partner when they read Huck Finn. She was also Zoe's friend so he'd see her occasionally around the house from time to time. Zoe didn't really like bringing people over because she was scared that he'd end up throwing a fit and scaring them off. She approached Zoe and wrapped her in a quick hug. She was here for Zoe, not him, he reminded himself.

The chapel room was loud, overlapping voice all talking to each other. People trading stories about Connor that barely even knew him. It made his skin crawl. They didn't have any right to pretend they knew him, pretend they actually care. 

Evan, Heidi, and Jared all walked in together. Jared for once seemed to have his mouth shut, and Evan... God damn it, Evan was crying. Heidi just leaned over and hugged her boy.

_"I know this is hard for you,"_ she said. _"we can leave if it gets too much, okay? I'm sure the Murphy's would understand."_

_"I'm fine,"_ he replied weakly, wiping the tears from his face. 

He met up with Zoe and his parents who each pulled him into a hug. Cynthia was still crying but she had a slight smile on her face when she saw Evan.

_"You really meant a lot to him. We can't thank you for everything you did to help our son."_

Evan gave a weak smile, and took a seat next to Zoe. 

The group from Pleasant Springs arrived next. All but Colton that was. He ignored it, thinking that maybe he had somehow missed hom come in with all the people packed in the small room. The ceremony was beginning and everyone took their seats. He couldn't believe this many people showed up to his funeral. Sure most of them were people he didn't know but still. There was a lot. Just as the speaker was beginning the door opened and Colton slipped in. He looked disheveled, his hair in many different directions instead of his normal quiff like style and a untied tie hung around his neck. He took the seat right next to Connor's self-conscious one. 

He tensed. It felt so real. He could hear Colton mumble under his breath, smell the cologne on his clothes, feel the extra warmth from a sudden body next to him. 

The speaker finished, asking if anyone wanted to say anything. People mumbled, but no one stood until Colton did. 

_this should be good_ , he thought.

Watching him walk to the stage felt like years to him, but finally he spoke. 

_"Connor was-- he was my best friend, and I know I didn't know Connor for that long, but there was something about him that- well you know what I'm talking about if you were close to him. Just like everyone here he had his ups and downs, more than others probably but he was making an effort. The Connor Murphy I knew was selfless, he'd completely disregard his own well being for the people he cared about, and he was a fighter. I watched him battle with addiction and his own demons. I watched him get knocked down and get back up so many times and--"_

Colton was cut off by the doors opening again. Everyone turned back to look. Demo, Tattoos, and Blondey all walked down the isles of the small chapel. The walked straight up to the stage, cornering Colton, before turning back and looking directly at his self conscious self. Demo smiled a cynical smile that made his blood run cold. 

_"It's Colton?"_ he phrased it like a question and then laughed. 

There was a flash of silver.

A small grunt as Colton doubled-over.

Crimson red staining the white button up he wore.

Maniacal laughter from Demo's lips roar louder than the screams and commotion from the people in attendance.

A flash of pain.

Startled, he jumped slightly like a cat scared over a sudden loud noise. His eyes snapped open, breathing fast and unevenly. He could feel his heart pumping quickly, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"What was it? What did you see."

_Fear._

Connor felt a sudden weariness, as if all the strength had seeped out of him, escaped, leaving him with nothing. An empty hollow feeling. He shook his head, “I-I don't know.” 

“Connor what did you see?” the doctor pushed again. 

The room is spinning. He's trying to concentrate but he isn't able to focus. He searches for a focal point, something to steady him, something he can concentrate on a slow his breathing, and decides to focus on the blinking light on Dr. Dubois laptop. It's a small blurry green box showcasing that it was fully charge. Dr. Dubois is still trying to talk to him, but he can barely make any of it out now. It’s too much. The tightening of his chest, the dizzy and blurry environment around, the fact that no matter how hard he tries to focus on that stupid fucking blinking light he can't seem to catch his breath. 

Dr. Dubois is in front of him, and he's got his hand on top of Connor's shoulder. He can make out the movement of his mouth, but he can’t, he can’t hear a goddamn thing beside the ringing in his ears. He wishes Dubois would take his hand off of him. It’s too much and it feels like burning to his flesh. 

And it must be his damn mirror neurons because he's watching Dubois slow and even breaths through blurry eyes when he starts trying to sync with him. It burns and he feels like he's gulping down too much air and not enough at the same time. He has to physically hold his breath for a few seconds to match Dubois. He feels like he's going to pass out. Hes lightheaded and his lungs burn when he finally is able to breath like a normal human and not like a fish out of water. 

Dubois kind of just sighs out of relieve and moves to his feet, handing Connor a bottle of water. Connor’s still trying to make sense of everything, still trying to stop his hands from shaking when he grabs the bottle from his therapist. 

“Okay no bullshit here,” Dr. Dubois starts, “what did you see.” 

Connor chugs the water bottle and crushes the plastic when he finishes. He doesn't dare look up at Dr. Dubois. It's probably the first time since Erik sent him here that he's seen a slice of who Connor truly is. He’s been lying, silent, and withholding information from him in every one of their sessions, but this- how was he supposed to cover this up and not have Dubois call his bluff. He has to start trusting him. Has to start telling him the truth.

Colton picked him up after the sessions ends, and quickly notices how exhausted Connor is when he climbs into the truck. It wasn't too long ago that Connor was punishing himself by not sleeping so naturally Colton began to worry. He had thought that with the medication Dr. Dubois put Connor on that he was getting somewhat better, at least now he wasn't forcing himself to stay up all night like he was in a _Nightmare On Elm Street_ film and if he closed his eyes he would be murdered. Still sometimes he'd find Connor up at three in the morning. He knew he'd have to be patience but he still didn't enjoy seeing his friend in pain. 

Erik had giving Colton very strict orders when Connor came back to the house after the incident. He was supposed to pick him up from his appointments and bring him straight back to the house. Most of the time he felt like a damn chauffeur, but only because it was Connor did he not get pissed. 

He could make an exception and face the consequences later. Right now the best place for Connor was out of that house. He could only imagine how he was feeling. Trapped probably. 

So Colton drove and Connor rested his head against the window and tried to ignore the images his stupid brain put in his head. 

Not too long after the two of them are sitting on a park bench that faces outwards towards a small pond. It's dark and past curfew so if anyone were to see them they'd definitely get in trouble, but again. Pay the consequences later. 

It's nearing March and the temperature is still unpleasant. Connor is balled up, knees pulled into his chest trying to conserve heat, wearing one of Colton's hoodies. Maybe it wasn't Colton's best idea, park bench in the middle of February, but he didn't really know where to go. The night is still and the two of them sit in silence. 

“You got stabbed,” Connor spoke after not too long.

Colton shot him a puzzled look, “Yeah, I know.” 

“No, I mean… I saw you get stabbed again.”

“I'm not following here.”

Connor sighed tugging on his hair, “Dr. Dubois said my guilt is manifesting itself into anger and that's why I lashed out at my parents house.” 

Colton swallowed, hard. The motel incident had happened well over four months ago, and Colton had been trying to put it in the back of his head ever since while Connor… apparently Connor never stopped blaming himself. He had tried many, many times over the course of the last couple months to get Connor to understand that it wasn't his fault, but he was stubborn like that. 

Now seeing how badly it's been eating at him, see how badly it's been affecting him, Colton feels responsible. If it wasn't for him and his stupid past he wouldn't have dragged Connor into this situation and caused him to feel such immense amount of guilt.

“And the dreams,” Connor continued.

“Wait dreams?” Colton interrupted, confused.

“I-uh have these nightmares where I keep seeing Evan die and I… I don't want to keep seeing my friends die,” He broke falling into sobs. 

Colton just sort of awkwardly held him, trying to calm the tears, “I’m still here. Evan’s still here. You're still here. We're all still here Connor, okay? It’s alright.”

Connor turned and now is full out crying into Colton's sweatshirt, and Colton's just rubbing small circles into his back. He's seen Connor cry before, seen Connor at worst than right now, but it never hurts any less. Because in all the time he's known Connor he’s seen the light inside all that darkness. Maybe Connor was a complete asshole before, but he's seen the change, seen the improvement and the Connor he became friends with deserves so much more than he has. He's taught Colton a lot and he's saved his life, actually saved his damn life, twice already. He's made it completely clear that he cares about him and Colton only hopes Connor can see the same. 

His phone starts to ring in his pocket and despite how much he wants to ignore it Connor pulls away, wiping his face with his sleeves, and tells Colton to take it. 

_Erik._

Of course.

As soon as he presses accept he's met with yelling, “Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

Colton pulls the phone away from his ear briefly to look at the time. “Midnight.”

“We had a deal Colton!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Colton rolls his eyes. “Look Connor wasn't doing good and I was worried so instead of just bringing him home and letting him continue to close himself off I'd offer some help.” 

Erik sighed, “Is he okay?” He asked. Erik was very dedicated to his work which meant he also cared a tremendous amount for the kids at Pleasant Springs. Sometimes he comes off as overbearing but he truly did care about them. All of them. 

“Honestly?” Colton said turning to look back at the boy sitting on the park bench. His eyes were fixed straight across the waterfront, wind lightly blowing his hair in his face. He looked so broken. Pale, frail, eyes and cheekbones sunken. “I don't think so.” 

Again Erik sighed, “And you're keeping an eye on him.”

“Of course.”

They wrapped up the phone call that surprisingly went a lot better than Colton was expecting. He was kind of expecting Erik to yell and tell him to get his ass and Connor's back to the house or he was going to send the police. He rejoined Connor back on the bench who looked at him with guilt-filled eyes. 

“I'm sorry I--”

“Stop apologizing you're starting to sound like Hansen,” he joked. 

Connor laughed, “I never used to apologize this much. I was more of a fuck everyone, fuck everything kind of person.” 

They stayed for a little bit longer before the cold weather forced them back to Colton's truck. Twenty minutes later they were back at Pleasant Springs. Colton followed Connor inside. Connor went upstairs to go to bed and Colton stayed down to talk to Erik. Damage control. 

He pushed opened Erik’s office doors and was met with the glasses-wearing counselor, and an older guy that he's never seen before.

“Oh, Colton this is Mr. Murphy, Connor's dad.” 

“Larry,” he said, offering his hand.

Colton froze staring at the man in front of him, _oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to update I haven't been feeling the best. I started writing this as a distraction away from my thoughts because I saw others do it and thought maybe it worked the same for me. It didn't. In fact most of the time after I finished writing a chapter I'd feel worse than I did when I started. And I don't know if it's because I have zero confidence in what I'm writing or if pouring all my feelings into these characters is hurting me. I don't know. All I know is my writing has been suffering quiet a lot from all this, in fact I don't think I've been proud or happy about a chapter since maybe chapter 11? In honesty this story has felt more of a chore to me than something I want to do, something fun like it originally was. So I've taken a step back from it. Took a couple days and now I'm back. Again I apologize for not updating I'm just trying to figure out my shit and survive my own life right now.
> 
> thank you if you stuck around I appreciate you.
> 
> (this is my longest chapter someone be proud of me)


	29. Calling Out Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one in which Larry and Corn on the Cob get sentimental

Colton stared at the hand offered out in front of him like it was the most alienated thing he had ever seen. It was the same as any other hand he’s seen before. Same as his, but a little older in features. Skin splattered with dull freckles and veins protruding like tiny mountains on the surface. It was just a hand. Colton tried to tell him he was overreacting, but it wasn't the hand that was the problem it was the man behind it. The man who his best friend spent multiple group session complaining about, the man who was controlling and manipulating, the man who, for years, didn’t give a shit about his son even when he was so visibly struggling. 

Maybe it was wrong for Colton to shape his judgement on someone based on hearsay, but this was Connor’s dad, and he hadn’t exactly heard anything that swayed him to believe there was an actual person inside that body. 

“Pleasure,” Colton said, forcing a somewhat friendly manner as he shook Mr. Muphry’s hand. Suspicion arose, from what Colton had heard, Larry was rarely involved in Connor’s life and was, as Connor put it, more than thrilled that he was gone. He pulled his hand away after a couple seconds, physical contact was never something he enjoyed plus on top of that he still had no idea who Mr. Murphy was or why he was even here. 

So he said the only logical thing he could, “Connor’s upstairs I can go get him if you want.”

“That’s okay,” Erik chimed in. “We’re just finishing up talking about a few things.”

Colton nodded, taking the hint to beat it, and lied when he told Mr. Murphy it was nice meeting him. He closed the office doors behind him, but stayed trying to listen through the door. It was wrong, but he didn't trust Mr. Murphy. 

_“Sometimes things get worse before they can get better.”_

_“And does he seem better to you?” a voice, that Colton assumed belonged to Larry, said._

_There was a pause, “these are from our last sessions,” Erik said. “I want to believe he is getting better, but… I mean look at it.”_

_“You think he might hurt himself?” There was something that Colton might have mistaken for pain in Larry's voice. It was soft, fragile, and Colton really had a hard time believing Larry didn't care about his son after that._

_“You said he's done it before,” Erik sighed. Colton imagined him pacing around the room, pulling lightly on his hair as he ran his fingers through it. “I'm just worried with everything… he might.”_

The thought was sickening. Colton knew very well that Connor had a history with self harm, that with everything going on with him that there was a very real possibility Erik was right. Connor was destructive to himself, and it wasn't a surprise to anyone that he was struggling. You could take one look at him and see it. He didn't look well and he was torturing himself because he couldn't forgive himself for something that wasn't even his fault. 

Worried, he practically bolted up the stairs to Connor’s room. 

He sighed out of relieve when he saw Connor was fine. 

“You know there's this super cool thing called knocking, right?” Conor said, finishing pulling a shirt over his head.

“Sorry I just--Don’t freak out,” he started.

Connor, who now finished getting dressed, sat on the corner of his bed looking at Colton, concerned, “okay?”

“Your dad is here.”

Connor groaned. He really didn't want to deal with this now. He was exhausted from today's events and just wanted to call it a day. Instead he knew what he needed to do and got to his feet.

“Wait,” Colton said grabbing his arm as he passed. “Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“I'm going to apologize not give him another black eye,” Connor pulled his arm out of Colton's grasp and made his way back down stairs. His dad was standing by the door when he got all the way down. 

“I'll let you know if there are any changes,” Erik said, both completely unaware of Connor's presence. He cleared his throat, getting both of their attention. 

“Hey dad.”

The first thing Connor noticed was the fading discoloration under the right eye of his father due to his handiwork. He bit down on his lip trying to suppress the slightest bit of joy he got from seeing it. Soon that joy turned into guilt, adding to the already manifesting mountain of guilt built up in his gut, as the memories of that night came crashing in like a wave. 

The dreams.

The fight with Erik right before he left for school because once again Connor had skipped breakfast, and the darkening color under his eyes weren't prompting Erik into believing Connor was taking care of himself like he claimed he was. 

Seeing Evan with Jared in the hall laughing like one of them hadn't just upped and disappeared for almost three months. 

Connor barely held it together that day in school. Like most days he would just wander class to class attempting to let the newest crazy Connor rumor fly over his head. It was just particularly exhausting and immensely stressful. 

He remembers the cigarettes in his hand. He doesn't however remember walking to the convenience store or even why he did so in the first place. Maybe it was just his muscle memory and the increasingly high level of stress that caused him to almost throw away two months of sobriety. 

Or maybe it was the dark cloud looming over him.

He could remember the feeling of helplessness, the numbing acceptance of his next step, and then the fiery burning anger that seemingly never failed to fuck up his life. 

One moment he was about to walk over to the train station and step onto the tracks and the next he was fist to face with Larry.

 

“Hey bud,” Larry said, awkwardly shifting his weight. The air was uncomfortably tense. Erik excused himself, quickly going back into his office. 

He tried to make sense of it. Of all of it. He tried talking about it with Dr. Dubois, who only claimed that Connor repent emotions unleashed themselves when he made his final decision. It was only after Connor had told him all about the motel and Colton that he made the point about guilt manifesting itself into anger. 

And that's the thing about guilt and anger. They both have the power to eat away at you. They both have the power to tear yourself apart till you don't even recognize who you have become. Guilt is a powerful emotion and can shape you into a monster the same way anger can. 

And seeing the slight discoloration under his father's eye had him feeling sick to his stomach. Tears pricked in his eyes, "I'm sorry," Connor mumbled weakly, stumbling forward, and wrapping his arms around Larry who froze in his sons arms. This was strange for both of them.

It was his father who, sure, never really could grasp the extent of his sons suffering, but definitely didn't deserve to be clocked in the face because Connor was so incredibly pissed at himself. 

Because there was some good qualities in Larry that made him a good father. Connor had just overlooked them or mistaken them for some sort of attack. 

 

He remembered when Larry had offered to help him study for his Econ final. It was an innocent gesture, but, of course, Connor had to take it the wrong way. He took it as Larry not thinking he was smart enough to understand the material, and, like always, ended up in a yelling match between the two. 

There was so many small moments like that where Larry simply wanted to help or do something nice that Connor completely blew out of proportion. But that's who he was. _No,_ that's what the anger shaped him into being. 

Hatred towards himself started to bubble up because, god, the whole thing was fucked. What kind of son just assaults their own father? Larry and Connor had their differences, and seemingly always never saw eye to eye, but after countless sessions with either Erik or Dr. Dubois he realized that maybe Larry wasn't the bad guy Connor believed him to be. 

 

He wouldn't be in the running for father of the year, but he did try. He provided, put on a brave act of stern father whose toxic masculinity made him cold and distant, who does what needs to be done even if it might not be best for the others around him. There were things he just didn't understand, things that he refused to understand no matter how hard his family tried to explain. Connor's mental state was one of those. He refused to see that Connor needed help, refused to believe that mental illness was even a thing because there's no physical ailments. He doesn't understand and for that Connor got worse. 

And he thinks that Larry still hasn't gotten a grasp on the whole thing. If the dinner weeks ago was any evidence, he didn't. Larry didn't understand his son and Connor doubted he ever would. As long as he hid behind his upbringing and blocked out the changing world around him he wouldn't. It was tough, and for that Connor was so frustrated with his father's stubbornness. 

 

Because he so badly wanted things to be different. He so badly wanted his father to see him not as a monster, but as his son. As someone he could be proud of.

And he cried into his father's shirt because he was just so tired of letting anger and frustration drive him. He was so tired of fighting all the time, of pretending he was strong when he wasn't. 

He kept mumbling apologies in between sobs, and his father, whose tense figure softened, just held his son.

They were both hurting. Both trying to figure the other out. And Connor knew that a hug wasn't going to fix years of pain caused by both parties, but he hoped it was a start. 

Because they both needed it.

After a few he pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He noticed the tear stains on his father's face and it made him want to cry all over again. He's never seen his father so emotional. 

“I'm sorry,” he said again because really what else was there to say? 

“I'm sorry, too. I failed you as a father, and I know there's nothing I can do to fix that, but I really do love you Connor and no matter what that's not going to change.”

Connor nodded. He wanted to say the words back, but everything was still fresh, still raw, and it was going to take time before things were fixed between him and his father. There had been too much pain and anger between the two for Connor to completely forgive Larry and forgive himself. 

“How's uh-- work?” Connor asked awkwardly. The only time he ever talked to his father was when he was yelling at him, so casually having a conversation was weird as hell. But he needed to make amends. 

Larry chuckled softly, “tell you what,” he started. “how about you and I go grab dinner one of these days and I'll tell you all about it if you really want to.”

And maybe listening to lawyer talk didn't sound the least bit interesting, but he liked the idea of actually talking, not yelling or fighting, with his father. 

He smiled softly, “I'd like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fact: I don't know how to write Larry's character ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ oops.
> 
> *I'm going to try and wrap this fic up soon because I'm currently working on another fic (it's a maze runner au) and I want to finish this one before I post another. 
> 
> **that being said more tree bros coming soon™
> 
> danke für lesen (thanks for reading)


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